


The Empire

by TTBret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Ancient Rome, M/M, Magic, Marauders, Marauders AU, Marauders' Era, Multi, Rebellion, Roman AU, Roman Empire, Romulus - Freeform, Slavery, the empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTBret/pseuds/TTBret
Summary: The wizarding world has been ruled by the "most noble and ancient house of Black" for over a century.Society has been separated into three classes - the elite being those with magic, the plebeians being non-magic folk, and the enslaved "Beasts".A small sect of free werewolves is growing, living on the outskirts of the empire, hidden. They are clever and merciless, using guerrilla tactics to fight against the organized forces of the Black house, and they are growing in numbers.The wolves are the only lasting threat to the stability of the empire - but all that is about to change.Sirius, the Black family heir, has taken an interest in one of the beasts... and Remus, the right hand man of the rebellion, is about to watch his world fall apart.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this concept a while ago and posted a synopsis on tumblr, asking my followers to try their hand at it if they felt so inclined. After seeing the amazing work they put out, and after months of internal debate/struggle, I decided to try my hand at writing it myself. This is my first venture into fan fiction, so we'll see how this goes. ;) 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful Beta's, Meg, Jess, Laura and Laina. <3 
> 
> \- TT

The sky was thick with smoke and dark red clouds that reflected the carnage below.

Remus hurtled into the clearing, his lungs starved for air and coated in ash. He couldn’t see, everything was burning. He closed his eyes, willing them to clear and bring the chaos surrounding him into focus.

He wished he had remained in darkness.

Remus stared as the smoke billowed past, revealing a body here, a body there. Corpses strewn across the dirt, their limbs charred, their ashes drifting away on the wind.

The wolf stumbled forward on legs that threatened to give way beneath him. The flames danced through the swirling clouds, casting shadowy demons across his path. An unnatural bloody glow leapt from one form to another, glinting off of wide, unseeing eyes. He couldn’t even recognize their faces.

_There were so many…_

Remus dropped to his knees and retched until he was hollow.

They were gone. Everyone and everything he had fought for, had _lived_ for…

A sob tore its way from his chest, tears leaving dirty streaks down his face and mixing with the blood beneath him.

“Oh come now, Remus, no need to act like a child.”

Remus fell still, hot air burning away his tears. The young wolf’s searing gaze rose upward until it rested on the owner of the mocking voice.

The man before him grinned with a face twisted in hellish delight, smoke billowing off of his skin as if it were seeping from his very pores; a living _demon_.

 _“Fenrir,”_ Remus snarled, his ears ringing and eyes burning in his skull. He felt a familiar tug from the hollow chamber of his stomach, and suddenly pain ripped through his body. His teeth pierced through his lower lip as they grew to deadly points, claws digging into the earth. With a roar he launched at the beast before him, the wolf taking control.

Fenrir leapt aside as the younger man threw himself blindly, tearing at everything in reach.

“You must be out of your mind, boy,” the monster cackled maddeningly as Remus launched again, barely managing to catch the corner of his tunic before Fenrir’s veined fist swung around, sending him sprawling in the mud.

Remus rose immediately, sheer adrenaline driving his actions. With a snarl he dove into the smoke, staying low to the ground and counting on the lack of visibility to aid him. He was fast, and Fenrir was caught off guard as the young wolf appeared from behind, snatching up an abandoned dagger and viciously burying it in the monster’s lower back.

Fenrir grunted as blood seeped from beneath the leathered armor. The wounded beast whirled around, lashing out. Remus gasped as Fenrir’s claws closed around his wrist. He leapt backwards, the blood soaking his hands allowing him to slip out of the man’s grasp and dive back into the smoke, hidden from view.

Fenrir snarled and shook off like a wet dog, sending red droplets flying in every direction.

“That was a dirty move, pup. Looks like I taught you well.”

Remus remained still, silent, eyes trained on the shadow stalking through the smoke.

“Come out, come out, Little One.” Fenrir’s voice echoed through the clearing, disturbingly cheerful. “You can’t hide forever. I’ll find you, just like I found Romulus… and Lucian, and Delphine, and-“

Remus stiffened, the hair on the back of his neck rising as Fenrir began to name off the pack members he had called family, starting with the man he had considered a brother. The list went on and on with tormenting finality, each name a death sentence on the beast’s vile tongue.

“Ah, Romulus. If it was a fair game of hide and seek he wanted, he should have chosen the players more wisely… because I found all of them.”

An inhuman, strangled sound erupted from inside of Remus, tearing its way mercilessly through his charred throat.

“There you are.”

Remus cried out as Fenrir’s leering face burst out of the swirling darkness in front of him, eyes burning brighter than the flames. He lashed out desperately, claws dragging across the beast’s face, leaving behind deep gashes. Fenrir only grinned broader through the tattered layers of flesh, completely unaffected as he lurched at the younger man.

Remus hit the ground, stars bursting into his vision as his head connected solidly with the hard earth beneath him. Fenrir dug his knee into Remus’ chest, pinning him.

Remus thrashed helplessly beneath the beast, desperately trying to throw him off, to keep him from getting a firm hold. Fenrir laughed as the boy’s struggling weakened, his victim light headed from the impact and the smoke.

“Ah, Little One…”

Fenrir leisurely began to busy himself with restraining Remus, chatting casually as he bound the young man’s wrists with a strip of leather.

“You were the only one who didn’t trust me. Did you know that Remus?”

Remus could feel Fenrir’s knee slowly pushing the air from his lungs. The world began to blur.

“You were right not to trust me, of course. You, out of everyone, had a valid reason… but I don’t think you ever figured out why.” Fenrir leaned over Remus, their faces inches apart, and smiled. “You still don’t recognize me, do you?”

Remus stilled, struggling to focus as he slipped in and out of consciousness. His gaze raked across Fenrir’s face, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind causing his ears to ring, just like it had when he had first laid eyes on the man. There was a part of him that knew Fenrir…

“Ah well, a story for another day I suppose.” Fenrir sat up, yawning, “That is, if there _is_ another day. The emperor certainly isn’t known for his mercy, is he?”

Remus summoned what little strength he had left, pushing back against Fenrir’s weight, eyes flashing amber. “Kill me now… or you’ll wish you had.”

Fenrir glanced down at Remus, suddenly looking bored. “That would be too easy.”

Remus’ eyes widened as Fenrir’s fist came flying down, and then everything went black.


	2. The Bargain

The heir to the Black Empire had never been much of a morning person – and this particular morning was no different.

“Get… _out_.”

The girl looming over the bed ran her fingers through her fiery hair, sighing loudly in frustration. “Sirius.”

“If you think I’m going to rise, _voluntarily_ , at this ungodly hour, then you’re sorely mistaken,” Sirius snapped, eyes still squeezed firmly closed. “You’ll have to _drag_ me.”

“Don’t tempt me. It would bring me no greater pleasure than to watch you bounce along the floor as I haul your pampered backside through the halls.”

Sirius groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and burying his face in it.

“Princeps.“

“I’m not the Princeps yet. Call me that again and I’ll have you flayed and skewered,” the muffled words sounded comical as they filtered through the feathered pillow, shielding him from the offending light pouring through the window. “And not in the fun way.”

“If I were more afraid of you than your mother, that might have worked.”

“Damn that woman.”

“Indeed.”

“Careful Lily, don’t want the empress’ spies overhearing you- ACK!” Sirius yelped in protest as the pillow was yanked away.

The girl’s eyes soared towards the ceiling and back down to settle on Sirius in an impressive display of exasperation. “I’m fairly certain the empress gave up on tailing you after you made it clear you intended to commit all of your ‘acts of treason’ _directly_ in front of her.”

A grin spread across the young lord’s face, his stormy eyes finally fluttering open to squint at the snarky serving maid. “Ah, Lily. Why on earth do I keep you around again?”

“Because your life would be _unbearably_ dull without me. Now get up.”

“Alright, alright you nag.” With an exaggerated show of effort, Sirius rose from the bed, letting the sheets drag along the floor behind him as he made his way across the room to a stone basin. The water gave off a pleasant scent of lavender as he splashed his face, attempting to shake off the last remnants of fatigue that threatened to send him back to the comforts of his bed.

Lily approached him, a tunic bearing the royal colors draped over her arm. Sirius stood patiently as Lily began to dress him, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. It had been a long night – although not an unpleasant one.

The young noble smirked as memories from the previous night’s escapades came flooding back.

Sirius had always found Cresswell a bit dull, but he had an aesthetic face. The heir had never taken him for the type who would enjoy a little casual coitus, but he had to admit, he had been delightfully mistaken. The older man was _much_ more interesting in bed.

“You can wipe that smirk off of your face,” Lily muttered, tying the sash around his middle a little more forcefully than was necessary. “You’re a glutton for punishment and I keep getting dragged down with you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll blame one of the other servants for negligence.”

“Only if it’s Avery. I can’t stand that man.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Lily spun Sirius around, directing him towards the door. “Off with you, pest.”

“You know, if any other servant spoke to me that way, they’d find themselves in the arena with a twig as their only weapon.”

“By twig, I’m assuming you’re referring to your privates?”

“Nonsense. My genitals are at least two twigs – tied together with a length of thread.”

“Leave.”

Sirius blew her a kiss and swept from the room, his dark robes swishing around the corner.

~*~

“Let him in.”

Sirius entered the tablinum, winking at the guards as he passed. Walburga’s nostrils flared in a manner that, Sirius made sure to point out, was unfitting of a monarch.

“While we are on the topic of actions that are _unfitting of a monarch_ ,” the empress hissed through gritted teeth, “I would like to make it abundantly clear that your entire existence is a scourge on the family name.”

“You say that as if it wasn’t already apparent.”

Walburga’s eyes glinted dangerously. “If you think your detestable antics have gone unnoticed, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Oh mother,” Sirius retorted, settling down and plopping his feet comfortably across the table as he finished grandly, "that was my entire motive.”

“You will not bed another of your sex again. I forbid it.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, letting his feet drop loudly to the floor. “Ah, that causes a bit of a problem now doesn’t it? You see, my bed is already scheduled to be occupied for the next few months… and I’m fairly certain that none of the fairer sex are on the agenda.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Walburga responded coolly. “You are to be wed in a month.”

Sirius’ elbow missed the table, nearly sending him crashing to the floor. He gaped at the empress in horror, spluttering, “Wed? As in marriage?”

“What other ‘wed’ is there you insufferable-“

“But, Narcissa has not come of age yet!”

Walburga settled back against her cushion, looking to all the world like the regal, composed monarch she pretended to be. However, an unnerving smirk painted her pale features, hinting at the madness beneath the facade. “The senate has decided that the only suitable match would be with the eldest daughter, Bellatrix.”

Sirius felt the blood seep from his face as if Pluto himself had stolen it away.

“I, of course, _agreed,_ ” Walburga finished, her expression sickeningly smug.

“Bellatrix,” he repeated, the name leaving a foul taste in his mouth. “I thought Bellatrix had already been ‘gifted’ to Syracuse. Why have I suddenly been bestowed the great honor of wedding the _madwoman?”_

“Because by the time Narcissa comes of age, you will have copulated with every male attendant in this domus and dragged the Black name through the dirt. Bellatrix is a ready and willing puppet master, and she will rule this empire according to the Black customs while her incompetent husband drinks himself into an early grave.”

Sirius flinched. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel about me, mother?”

“Don’t ask for something you don’t wish to hear.”

The young heir snarled, leaning forward and slamming his fist against the table. “There were plenty of others! You could have chosen Andromeda-“

“Do not speak that vile name in this place again.” Walburga’s expression had darkened in a manner that left Sirius rattled. “That filthy wretch has forsaken the empire. She was found with a commoner.”

“What does that matter?” Sirius snapped, the rising panic leaving him in a mild state of hysteria. “As if nobles don’t sleep with servants on a nightly basis!”

“She joined with this plebeian in matrimony.”

The sentence shocked Sirius into silence. Andromeda had married a commoner? That could mean only one thing, she was to be-

“Exiled.” The empress finished her son’s train of thought. Sirius felt as though a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. Andromeda had always been his favorite out of the Black relatives. How could she have done something so utterly thoughtless?

How could she have left him in the hands of her maniac sister… _for a commoner?_

“I won’t do it.”

“It is your duty to produce an heir.”

“Not with Bellatrix. I’d cut off my own dick first, and I’m rather fond of it.”

Silence hung in the air, the furious energy between the two building like a storm.

“If Regulus were alive…” Walburga’s unspoken threat hung in the air, causing Sirius to bristle.

“Yes, but my brother is dead,” he snapped. “And who’s fault is that?”

Sirius regretted his brash words immediately. Walburga’s brows disappeared into her hairline, eyes popping out of her skull. Sirius would have found her reaction almost laughable, if the crazed look she bestowed upon him didn’t strike him with so much fear.

Sirius gripped the table to keep his hands from trembling, knuckles white against the cold marble as he struggled to calm the sudden rush of nausea that coursed through him. He had pushed her too far and he knew it.

The empress was as still and pale as a statue, the only sign of life the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed sharply through her nose. Then her thin, bloodless lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I loved my son,” she rasped, her words halting and strained with suppressed emotion. “You had my love once too. It is a shame you could not _keep it_.”

Sirius had thought the empress’ spiteful words would lose their sting after a time, but she always managed to surprise him.

He would have preferred a beating.

The next words out of Walburga’s mouth were scathing. “You will marry Bellatrix and produce an heir if I have to drag you to her chambers myself.”

Bile rose in the back of Sirius’ throat at the thought of bedding his sadistic cousin, which, to his horror, was quickly becoming his only future prospect – other than an untimely end at the hands of his own mother. “And… and if I don’t?”

“It would be in your best interest to do so.”

Sirius stared at the spiteful woman across from him, one clear thought suddenly begging to be heard amongst the incessant roaring in his head. He grasped at it, desperately clinging to the sudden glimmer of hope.

Choosing his words carefully, he asked, “What heir will take over if you do away with me?”

The hatred that filled his mother’s eyes made him feel lightheaded, but he pressed on. “I may be a disappointment, but I’m no fool. A ‘puppet master’ is nothing without their puppet. Those who _could_ have taken my place are either unfit to rule, female or dead. You’re barren, and cannot produce another Regulus. I am the only hope of the Black dynasty continuing.”

Walburga froze for a moment, her eyes narrowed to slits. Sirius tensed as the woman rose, weaving her way around the table to stand next to her son. She reminded him vaguely of a wild cat stalking its prey. The heir kept his face impassive as the woman’s spidery fingers slid over his shoulder, nails digging painfully into his flesh.

_“What do you want?”_

Sirius stood, shaking her hand off, and turned to face her. “I want a companion.”

“If you think I’m going to allow you to whore yourself to any more-“

“No, not ‘any more’. A single companion. If you will agree to allow me a man of my choosing, _any_ man of my choosing, to do with as I wish… I will marry Bellatrix in a month’s time.”

Sirius could see the empress carefully weighing the options he’d placed before her. He forced himself to keep his gaze steady, balling his hands into fists to prevent them from trembling and betraying his resolve.

“If you find this companion,” she said slowly, placing emphasis on every word, “he will remain a secret. I will not have our name tainted by your sexual predilection. If you do not find this man in a month’s time, you will marry Bellatrix regardless.”

Sirius felt his mouth go dry. “Agreed. But if I _do_ find this man, you will have no say in what I do with him, how I dress him, what luxuries I bestow upon him, and you will provide me with whatever material means I require. Without question.”

The empress looked about ready to slap Sirius as she fought furiously with herself, her face twitching. She finally snarled, her teeth grinding audibly. “You have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to everyone for all the wonderfully supportive comments! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this! <3
> 
> \- TT


	3. Monsters in the Shadows

It was dark. So dark that Remus had to blink to make sure his eyes had actually opened. He felt panic grip him, terrified that the blow Fenrir had delivered had taken his sight. It took another heart-stopping moment for his vision to adjust and his surroundings to come into focus.

As the world around him cleared, Remus took a deep breath, wincing when something bit into his neck. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the smooth leather strap wrapped around his throat.

A collar. _How appropriate_.

Remus slowly lifted his aching body into a sitting position, head throbbing as he looked around attempting to discern his surroundings.

Bars, stone walls, a bench… a wooden bowl.

Remus gasped, suddenly painfully aware of how thirsty he was. The bitter taste of ash still coated his tongue and he was desperate to be rid of it. Reaching for the crudely carved dish, he almost wept when the contents proved to be water. _Thank the gods!_

The bowl had barely touched his lips when he froze. What if it was a trap – some cruel trick? Poison?

He shook his head at his own paranoia, instantly regretting it as the cell started to spin. They could have easily done away with him when he was unconscious. Throwing caution to the wind, Remus rapidly drained the contents of the bowl. The sensation of the cool wood against his bruised lips was oddly comforting.

The comfort was short lived.

 _‘Perhaps death would be a blessing.’_ The words hung in the air. Remus wasn’t sure if he had spoken them aloud or merely thought them.

Letting the empty dish drop with a clatter, the young wolf stood and laboriously made his way over to peer through the bars.

His vision was limited to the few cells in front of him. The one directly across from him was empty, but the two on either side had shadowy occupants, the figures large and hulking in the gloom.

Remus cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the specters before him. Steeling himself, he addressed the nearest indistinguishable prisoner, “You, what is this place?”

“… Remus?” A ragged voice answered, sounding as though it were coming from an adjacent cell. The wolf fell completely still, his pulse pounding in his ears. He knew that voice.

Licking his cracked lips, Remus struggled to quell the budding seed of hope that was rapidly threatening to engulf him. The thought of being wrong terrified him. With a tremor in his voice, he croaked, “Romulus?”

A soft exclamation met his tentative inquiry. Remus slumped against bars as the familiar tone washed over him, his knees nearly giving way.

He didn’t dare believe it. He had been so positive his leader had been laid to waste with the rest of their kin.“You’re alive.”

“Barely. Gods, it’s so good to hear your voice Rem.”

“Remus!?”

Remus gasped as another voice joined the unexpected reunion. “Lucian!”  

“Well shit! I thought Hades had dragged all of your pretty faces down with him to Elysium and left my ugly mug here to rot!”  

“It’s ‘Pluto’ now Lucian,” Romulus responded dryly, attempting to mask the elation in his voice. “Catch up with the times, you heathen.”

“Ah, fuck that. The old gods are _far_ more fun.”  

Remus choked on a sob, pressing his face against the rough, cold barrier that kept him from his pack. He strained to see past the bars as he cried, “I thought I’d lost you all! How many survived?”

“Only the three of us, that I know of.” The words quavered as they left Romulus’ mouth.

Remus felt the hope that had been slowly building wither and settle coldly in his stomach. He shook his head and took a deep, steadying breath. “Well. That’s two more than I expected.”

There was a loud bang as one of the shadowy figures across from Remus slammed a fist into the bars of his prison. “Would you damned mutts be quiet? Your barking is grating on my ears.”  

“Piss off. We’re having a moment, you insensitive fuck!” Lucian snarled.  

“What did you say to me!?”

“You stink like a low-life latrine!”

Remus laughed, almost hysterically, as the two men began to snarl at each other like caged dogs, hurling insults into the dark. The relief he felt was too much. He sank to knees, unable to stop the euphoric tears from stinging the corners of his eyes. He wiped at them, ashamed at the blatant display of weakness as he struggled to regain his composure.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you too, Rem.”

The words seized Remus through the din, low and filled with the unspoken suffering that they both had endured. It was a side of Romulus that very few of the wolves had seen, a vulnerability that he had reserved only for his closest companions. A hand appeared outside of the cell, reaching blindly towards Remus, and Remus gripped it tightly through the bars. “I am here – and there may be others who survived. This isn’t over yet.”  

~*~

An unpleasant man had made his way down the row of cells, dropping bowls carelessly enough to spill the already inedible contents. The dull light from his lantern had stung the unaccustomed eyes of the prisoners. It was the most exciting thing that had happened in hours –

 _Wait_ , Remus couldn’t discern how long it had been since then – hours… a day… more? He had lost track of how much time had passed. The persistent gloom was disorienting.

Romulus’ soothing voice was the only constant, an anchor to sanity as the time passed. The man would banter playfully with Lucian at moments, the two men making light of the situation in an attempt to keep in good spirits, and then he would turn his attention to Remus when he noticed the younger wolf becoming withdrawn.

Remus couldn’t keep up with the conversation, anxiety building with each passing moment. He hated the uncertainty, the endless waiting.

“You’re brooding again,” Romulus teased humorlessly.

Remus had so many things he wanted to ask about what had happened to the others before he arrived – all painful topics he couldn’t bring himself to breach. Not yet. “What do they intend to do with us?”

Romulus fell silent, Remus' question hanging, unanswered, in the air.

“Where do you think you are?” Another voice responded derisively.

“Enlighten me.” Remus waited, silently praying for the man to continue. He had thought they were in the royal prison, but frankly, he had no idea what lay beyond his cramped cell.

“Let me give you a hint, pup. Those bastards out there are going to make a spectacle of us. They’re going to release the enslaved beasts so they can watch us bleed, and we’re going to play right into their hand and tear each other apart for a chance to live another day.” The man chuckled darkly. “And mark my words, I would gladly rip you all limb from limb for a decent fucking meal.”

Remus' eyes widened as everything clicked into place. The arena.

They weren’t going to be put to death… they were going to be forced to execute _each other_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Meg and Jess for helping me sort out the plot! <3


	4. Divine Judgement

“I should have done something.”

Romulus remained mute, seemingly unwilling to approach the topic. Remus rested his head against the cool stone wall, eyes shut tight against the cruel reality before him. The guilt had been building, eating him away from the inside. “I knew. I was the only one who knew, and I did nothing.”

“You weren’t _allowed_ to do anything,” Romulus responded sharply, cutting Remus short. “That was my folly, not yours.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have listened.”

“Would you two stop with the goddam guilt session? Couple of noble idiots, the both of you,” Lucian snapped.

Remus shook his head, the petrifying emptiness he felt threatening to overwhelm him. “If I had just-“

“We had an entire pack and no one did anything. _Hundreds of people,_ Remus – and that filthy mongrel fooled us all. He was a goddam sheep in wolf’s clothing and we fell for it,” Lucian snorted, his voice laced with bitter admiration. “What fucking irony.”

“Regardless of who is to blame, it’s done,” Romulus stated, his tone effectively ending the discussion.

Remus wanted to retort, to rage, to somehow release the pressure in his chest. But there was nothing to be said that hadn’t already been said. No way to relieve the guilt when no one was willing to acknowledge that he carried it, that _he_ was to blame. He needed forgiveness from people he would never see again. He needed-

“Put your energy towards something useful Remus,” Romulus commanded, sensing the mounting distress. “The only thing we can do is focus on how to proceed. You said so yourself, this isn’t over yet. Not while we still breathe.”

Remus took the words to heart, perhaps a little too literally. Inhaling, he focused on the cool air flowing through him, allowing his lungs to fill and empty. The repetitive motion slowly calmed his frayed nerves.

They were still alive. And as long as they were alive-

Remus froze, suddenly acutely aware of a new, unfamiliar sound in the unchanging environment. The rest of the prisoners had fallen silent as well, ears trained towards the ceiling.

_Footsteps… voices…_

A crowd was filling the stadium above.

~*~

Sirius was ill-tempered and sweaty, which was an unpleasant combination. He sat on the podium with the elite members of the Black family, the heat causing his ebony hair to curl in unflattering tendrils and stick to his forehead. He had never particularly enjoyed coming to the arena, and would normally have _politely_ refused to attend...

However, today was different. Today was the ‘dawning of a new era’, as his father had so ceremoniously put it.

What he’d _actually_ meant was that he was about to provide the commoners with a ritualistic bloodbath in the name of the empire. A day of _festivities_ for the plebeians, to reinforce the power of the monarchy and enhance their rapidly declining popularity.

Sirius wrinkled his nose, grimacing. Any event taking place in the arena was always a brutal, barbaric affair that left him dwelling a little too intently on his own fragile mortality.

Unfortunately, Sirius was not on good enough terms to refuse the invitation to this particular event, which he had pointed out – scornfully – hadn’t been an invitation at all, but a very clear and inflexible order.

 _It’s wiser to play nice,_ he reminded himself. _For the time being._

~*~

Remus could hear the faceless hordes above chanting, though the words were muffled. The ceiling quaked, sending dust and grit raining down to coat Remus in a fresh layer of dirt, adding to the several layers that had already accumulated. He shook off, causing the filth to burst in a cloud around him.

“Quite the crowd.”

Remus caught the words faintly through the rumbling and turned his attention to the cell across from him. It had been empty before, but he was sure the voice had come from there. The guards must have imprisoned another beast while the rest of them were sleeping.

Remus was squinting, trying to make out some sort of outline, when the hall was abruptly saturated with blazing golden sunlight, causing several prisoners to cry out in pain. Remus flung up his arm to shield himself as a metal grate on the far end of the dungeon screeched open.

Remus blinked through streaming eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the harsh light. Footsteps resonated down the hall, shadowy silhouettes preceding them. Remus' pulse began to race as they drew closer.

He stumbled clumsily to his feet as a pair of soldiers, different from the ones that had been manning the pen, halted before his cell. Remus' hackles rose as his gaze flicked back and forth between the two men.

“That’s not the one.”

The other guard had turned his attention to the next cell. He scoffed, “That’s the beast? Scrawny little mutt, aren’t you?”

Remus watched in horror as the guards opened the neighboring pen, dragging Romulus into view.

It was the first time Remus had been able to catch a glimpse of him since the attack, and his heart stopped at the sight.

Where Romulus’ piercing black eye had once been there was now an inflamed mess of mutilated flesh. The pack leader was so frail that Remus felt ill just looking at him. The man was shaking, but he straightened in their hold, his expression one of forced calm.

The guards shackled Romulus unceremoniously, causing him to wince as the manacles scuffed the already tender, bruised flesh. Remus rushed over, clutching desperately at the bars of his cell.

“Wh-where are you taking him?” He mouthed, the words escaping his lips in nothing more than a strained whisper as his throat constricted. He struggled to speak through the rising dread, growing more desperate as the guards finished chaining Romulus. “Where are you taking him!?”

Ignoring Remus, the guards directed Romulus, gripping him by the collar that dug into his neck. “Move.”

“Let me speak to him!” Remus choked as they moved in front of his cell, and without thinking, his arm shot out between the bars to latch onto the nearest soldier.

The guard turned quickly, forcing Remus' grasping hand away. Remus cursed, his arm bending painfully. As the guard moved to step forward again, Remus frantically jammed his foot through the bars, sending the guard sprawling.

The other soldier gave a derisive snort rather than move to aid his fallen comrade. Seeing an opening, Remus reached for Romulus, his fingers closing around the man’s frail arm.

“Let go you stupid mutt!” The humiliated guard leapt to his feet, trying to tear Remus off, but his grip was too strong.

 _“Let them say goodbye you witless oaf!”_ Lucian roared, his voice cracking.

The guard froze, startled. With the eye that remained, Romulus turned to stare at Remus, his gaze steady.

“Where are they taking you?”

“Thank you, for staying by my side.” Romulus’ voice was hushed, a tremble giving away the fear he was trying so desperately to conceal. “I didn’t deserve a friend like you, Remus. I’ll never be able to make amends for what I’ve done.”

Remus gasped, his heart breaking at the torment in Romulus’ voice. “No, listen to me. None of this was your fault-“

“I should never had doubted you. I’m a selfish man Remus, and I’m going to ask for your forgiveness, although I know I don’t deserve it.”

Remus choked back a sob as the guards, looking uncomfortable with the spectacle, attempted to pull Romulus away. Remus' grip on the other man’s arm tightened. “You have nothing to be sorry for! _Nothing!”_

Anguish flashed across his defeated leader’s face, but the emotion was quickly stifled as he rose to his full height, shoulders straight and gaze subdued. “Be stronger than I was.”

“Romulus, no, p-please, don’t let them-“

Romulus yanked his arm away, leaving Remus clawing at the air as his friend, his brother, moved out of sight.

A deafening roar raged through the underground prison, the hateful, bloodthirsty shrieks of the crowd piercing Remus like a jagged blade to the soul. He railed against the wretched confines of his prison as Romulus’ shadow disappeared from view, the gate slowly starting to close.

_“ROMULUS!”_

“There’s nothing we can do,” Lucian cut him off sharply. “Don’t make a fool of yourself. Let the man die with his pride.”

Remus shook his head, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears it nearly drowned out the demonic uproar from outside. He shook the bars again, begging them to give way, his feverish gaze settling on the cell across from his.

The beast in the cell smiled back at him.

Remus felt his blood run cold as Fenrir rose to his feet, his orange eyes blazing in the quickly fading light.


	5. The Wolf's Head

Sirius plucked irritably at the silvery green trim of his toga, which was clinging uncomfortably to his clammy skin. If his parents intended to make an example of the unfortunate leader of the rebellion, the least they could do was speed it up a bit. Gods, it was stifling.

Feeling as though he would die, if not from the heat than out of sheer boredom, Sirius decided to entertain himself by picking out potential companions in the crowd below. His eyes fell on the distinct heads of the twins, Fabian and Gideon – the firstborn of a powerful pureblood family, fallen from grace after their father, a senator, had proposed an unfavorable alteration to the laws surrounding plebeians and mudbloods. _Not_ the most intelligent move.

Thankfully, their name and blood status had kept them from exile. Sirius had always been fond of the mischievous twins. He played with the thought of collecting the pair of them and grinned. His mother would be thrilled.

Sirius continued his little game, amusing himself as he jumped from face to face in the crowd, debating which option would cause his mother to burst a blood vessel.

Suddenly, a disturbance starting from the far end of the stadium began to rumble across the stands. The low noise rose to a deafening roar as the southern gates to the arena creaked open. Sirius turned towards the commotion, his interest piqued in spite of himself.

From the darkness emerged three figures. Two soldiers sporting the skull and ravens of the Black family – _charming_ – escorting a smaller man between them.

Sirius leaned forward, intrigued. The wolf was not at all what he had expected. He was slight, frail and brutally injured. His dark hair was streaked with gray, but he carried himself with the vitality of a youth. As the rebel leader drew closer, Sirius realized with a jolt that the man couldn’t be much older than himself.

This _boy_ had organized the largest rebellion against the monarchy in over a century.

_Fascinating._

Sirius rested his chin in his hands, mentally preparing for the gruesome performance that was about to unfold.

~*~

With the loss of sunlight, the darkness became impenetrable. Remus stared blindly at the spot where moments before Fenrir had stood. The only sound Remus could hear was his own labored breathing and the ringing in his head. His vice-like grip on the bars was causing his hands to slowly go numb. Mere feet separated him from the traitor, yet Remus couldn’t even distinguish an outline.

A spine-chilling noise echoed through the hall. Remus shivered, his hair standing on end as Fenrir’s nails trailed up and down the bars of his cell, scraping the rusty metal.

The air became palpably tense as the disconcerting sound dragged _on and on._ No one noticed when the garbled roar of the crowd above suddenly dimmed and a solitary voice took its place.

~*~

“… Enemy to the Empire. Traitor to the people and our noble way of life–“

Sirius yawned as his father droned _on and on,_ his voice magnified to reach every corner of the massive stadium. The crowd seemed to be working themselves into another frenzy as their Emperor reeled off the crimes committed by the wolf in the ring.

It was an impressive list, to be sure.

Sirius almost felt sorry to see the beast go. He had been such a lovely thorn in the Black family’s side. He almost felt as if he knew the wolf, having endured so many rants in the dining hall from his seething mother.

“This beast is to be sentenced to death!” Orion boomed, and the crowd roared in approval, restless from roasting in the hot sun and eager for bloodshed.

Stomach twisting in knots, Sirius’ eyes raked over the wolf, the young face scarred and mutilated. Sirius wondered if he’d looked like that before he was taken captive.

The wolf suddenly turned, his one-eyed gaze settling on the young lord. Sirius went rigid, caught in that piercing stare, unable to look away.

_Romulus._

The sudden thought came to him that his father hadn’t mentioned the beast’s name, not once, during the entire speech. The creature was going to die without even a name to remember him by.

The thought made Sirius feel oddly disturbed.

He turned away, breaking the eye contact, his breathing ragged.

~*~

The atmosphere in the holding pen had escalated to chaos. The halls were filled with the shrill screech of Fenrir’s claws dragging incessantly across the bars. Remus covered his ears, the inhuman sound setting his teeth on edge. Several prisoners started to shout in protest, the noise driving them mad.

Abruptly, the scraping stopped and the hall fell silent… just as the noise above grew to a deafening roar.

_“TAKE HIS HEAD, TAKE HIS HEAD-“_

Remus staggered, his back hitting the opposite wall as the chanting coursed through him, seeping into every corner of his body like a flood until he was suffocating beneath its crushing waves.

~*~

_“You’re too young to be out here alone. Where are your parents?”_

  _Remus sniffed, wiping his dripping nose. He looked up at the boy addressing him, and tears started coursing down his cheeks. “They said they’d come back,” he whispered._

_The boy, who looked a few years older than Remus, knelt down next to him, dark curls falling into darker eyes. Remus felt fear seize him, but the boy’s expression was filled with concern._

_“My name is Romulus,” he said, his tone soothing as he rested a hand on Remus' head, gently ruffling his hair. Remus froze, his heart pounding, then leaned slowly into the touch. Romulus grinned, but the grin disappeared when he caught sight of the tattered shirt that the little boy wore, a gaping wound on his abdomen apparent beneath the torn cloth. There was a small intake of breath._

_"Where did you get that bite from?"_

_Remus' eyes widened, and his frail body started shaking. "I - I don't remember."_

_Romulus stared for a moment, a pained look on his face, then slipped his arm around Remus, lifting him carefully to his feet._

_“I’m going to take you home with me.” Romulus smiled comfortingly, gently leading Remus, who winced with every step._

_“But, my mum-“_

_“I don’t… I don’t think they’re coming back.”_

_Remus felt panic grip him, his young mind unable to take in what the older boy was saying._

_“We’ll see if we can find them, perhaps they just got lost,” Romulus quickly amended, sensing the boy’s distress. “But for now, you can live with me. You look like you’ve been out here for a while. I’m sure you’re probably hungry.”_

_Remus' stomach grumbled as if on cue and Romulus laughed. “What’s your name?”_

_“… Remus.”_

_“Well Remus, I think we’re going to be good friends.”_

~*~

The chanting stopped, and the crowd above suddenly exploded, the deafening sound tearing Remus in half. He slid down the wall, clutching his chest, his eyes wide and unseeing.

_He’s gone._

“Don’t worry Little One… you won’t be parted for long,” Fenrir murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing support and all of the lovely comments, you guys have been amazing! :D -TT


	6. Nightmare Fuel

The wolf’s head rolled in the dirt, his single eye gazing, empty, towards the heavens.

The crowd went wild, screaming and jeering and stomping their feet against the stands. Sirius felt the nausea hit, threatening to undo him; the iron stench of blood had never sat well with him. His vision swam as he urged the bile to stay put.

Orion had set twelve armed soldiers on the defenseless, injured beast – hadn’t even given the creature a fighting chance. Unable to look away from the savage performance, Sirius had watched as the wolf was chased down and cornered, hunted like a common boar.

Even without a weapon, Romulus’ defense had been impressive – but the injuries he’d accumulated made him fatally slow. Sirius shuddered, recalling the look of resolve that had settled on the wolf’s face before it was detached from his body.

The soldier who had delivered the final blow smirked arrogantly, raising his bloody blade and licking the tip, to the crowd’s delight. Sirius’ lip curled in disgust at the man’s unfounded conceit.

“You don’t approve?”

Sirius turned to find his father side-eyeing him, and he quirked a brow in response. “Since when did you care for my approval?”

“It’s not your approval that I care for, it’s your apparent indifference to our victory.”

“Some _victory_.”

“The soldier you’re scoffing at just ended the rebellion.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping off of his tongue like molasses. “Ah yes, the brave soldier killed the mighty beast… almost like skewering the elderly and infirm. What a hero.”

Orion sighed but chose not to rise to the bait, instead shifting his attention back to the arena and away from his disappointing spawn. Sirius wrinkled his nose, the smell overwhelming his senses and making him woozy. He rose unsteadily to his feet, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

“Leaving so soon?”

Sirius halted with one sandaled foot hanging over the platform. He silently urged it to tilt forward and finish its stride so he could be on his merry way, but the warning tone from his mother kept his body firmly in place.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Your duties mean nothing to you.”

“Whatever gave you that impression mother?” Sirius turned, cursing inwardly as another wave of nausea hit. Walburga’s steely gaze turned the relentless heat of the day into a bitter chill.

“I won’t tolerate weakness, Sirius.” Walburga spat out his name as if it were the most vile thing she’d ever tasted. “You will stand with the illusion of dignity and strength alongside your family as judgment is passed on the enemies of this empire.”

Sirius almost laughed outright. _Judgement? With what court? What trial?_

He felt the desperate urge to retort threatening to sear a hole through his tongue, but he bit it instead and moved stiffly back to his seat, settling himself against the cushions to fume in silence.

Walburga, satisfied, saw fit to ignore him, her mood significantly improved by Sirius’ submission. _The harpy_. Orion, who had wisely chosen to remain silent through the exchange, shook his head, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the arena below.

Sirius folded his arms, swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth. It was going to be a miserably long day.

~*~

_This couldn’t be real…_

Remus curled into himself, shutting his eyes tightly against the cruel reality facing him. He had grown up believing that good could overcome any obstacle, because he had seen it. He had seen a group of people, cursed and scorned, set aside their misfortunes and rise above the bitter circumstances that life had dealt them. They had created a family out of the discarded and unloved.

For a few short years, Remus had felt invincible. He had believed, wholeheartedly, that they would triumph regardless of the odds. There was no possible way the world could be that unjust. Somehow, it would have to restore balance and tip the scale in their favor.

_How could he go on knowing that he had been so entirely wrong?_

The gate at the far end of the hall opened with a mournful groan, once again spilling the harsh light from outside across the filthy floor. Remus couldn’t bring himself to lift his head as footsteps halted outside of his cell.

The lock clicked, the door swung open with a piercing screech, and Remus was forced to his feet. He heard a string of curses from another cell as Lucian was also selected. The next few moments were a blur, his mind reeling as it struggled to catch up with the present situation.

Metal scraped against metal as his wrists were fitted with rusted manacles. Remus endured it in silence, grateful for the muddied strands of hair that had grown long enough to shield him from the condemning stare of his captors. His eyes stung, the shadows on the floor blurring through the tears that were threatening to fall.

He heard a quiet chuckle from the cell next to him. “You’re shaking pup.”

Remus went rigid. His mind had strayed from the demon resting safely behind bars beside him. Fenrir leaned casually against the wall, head tilting as the corner of his lip curled in amusement.

“Every dog gets put down eventually.”

Remus could feel the hatred filling him like acid, scorching him from the inside out. Before he could gather himself enough to channel the rage, he was shoved forward towards the bright gateway leading to the arena. The sun poured through the opening, heat radiating in visible waves through the air.

The gates of the underworld were opening up to swallow him.

Remus hissed as the light hit, engulfing him. After so many days in the cold, dim tunnels beneath the arena, the sun’s rays were scorching. The stifling air seared his lungs until he feared he’d blister inwardly.

He stumbled forward, wincing when his bare feet touched the sand of the arena. The stadium swam before him as his watering eyes adjusted.

It was massive. The stands rose up like mountains of writhing bodies, their mouths wide and gaping as they screamed in unison, the individual voices blending into one deafening roar.

Remus waited for the rush of fear to hit, for the adrenaline to kick in, but he felt nothing. Not a single thing that lay beyond this life could be worse than the hell he was facing now.

Their captors lead them to the center of the ring and stopped, the dust settling around them. Remus craned his neck, struggling to see around the guard at his side. Lucian’s large, pale eyes peered back at him, sweat trickling down through the maze of freckles that dotted his face. His already gangly frame looked almost transparent now, as though the slightest breeze might carry him away. He nodded stiffly at Remus, throwing him a thin-lipped smile, but Remus could see past the facade. There was panic creasing his brow.

A gate on the opposite side of the arena suddenly opened. Remus turned his attention to the prisoners filing out and felt his stomach lurch.

“Zeus’ balls,” Lucian exclaimed. The remainder of the pack, twenty of them at least, were making their way towards the center. Remus struggled to quell the unwelcome excitement that washed through him at the sight of so many familiar faces. The knowledge that they had survived the slaughter only to land themselves in what was about to become a boneyard made his chest constrict painfully.

“Remus, Lucian!”

“Alis!” Remus cried, nearly rushing forward as a young woman strained against her captors iron grip, her round face alight with relief.

“You’re alive!” Alis sobbed, ending her struggle and allowing the guard at her side to lead her.

“Is Francis with you?” Remus called desperately as she merged into the growing line and disappeared from view. He waited for her response, heart pounding, but no answer came.

“Francis didn’t make it.”

Remus turned to face the new voice and inhaled sharply as William slipped in line next to him. His brilliant red hair was coated in black soot, and fresh scars littered his face, dragging his lip up in a permanent snarl. He turned to face Remus, his startlingly altered features softening into a more familiar expression. “Nice to see a friendly face before we all die. You look well – all things considered.”

Remus opened his mouth to respond when a harsh voice rang out, claiming his attention.

“The terrors that have haunted our city, stolen our livelihoods, hunted our young and wreaked havoc on this noble society… have been brought to justice.”

The magnified words cracked through the air like a whip, effectively silencing the crowd. Remus felt the sweat grow cold on his brow. He had heard of only one man with the ability to cause such a turbulent mob to become instantly mute. Remus’ breath caught in his lungs as he searched for the disembodied voice, his gaze finally settling on the stand at the head of the arena.

“There he is.” William murmured, his expression darkening to match the snarled curl of his lip.

Remus had never laid eyes on any member of the Black family. They had always been nothing more than a horror story to fuel his nightmares. Yet there they stood… living, breathing manifestations of every wolf’s greatest fear.

The Emperor had strikingly dark features. His ebony hair curled around a silver laurel, and he was dripping in jewels that caught the sunlight and reflected it back in harsh shades of green. He held his glittering arms outstretched as he addressed his subjects, black silks spilling down to pool at his feet.

Orion Black had once been the most ruthless general the empire had ever seen. Now, he had the appearance of a man who had been caged for far too long, trapped in a role that didn’t suit him. The aloof, dignified expression he held looked as though it had been painted on at a young age, a strategically crafted picture of strength and leadership. But the paint was peeling. Remus could see the hungry, feral look that escaped his eyes as he gazed down at his prey.

_And they call us beasts._

“The monsters have been vanquished, their fortress burned, and our people saved from the terrorism of these beasts.”

The Emperor’s cool voice swam in and out of the fog in Remus’ head. He couldn’t focus through the ringing that had begun in his ears. His muscles tensed, pulling painfully against his bones. His canines dragged against his gums, forcing their way into a mouth that was too small to hold them. The bitter taste of iron spilled onto his tongue.

Remus took a deep, ragged breath, struggling to regain control. He wasn’t about to let himself become a monster like the one that stood before him.

Dragging his burning gaze away from the man who had destroyed everything he held dear, Remus forced himself to study the rest of the individuals on the platform.

The woman to the Emperor’s right had a face carved from stone, brittle and white as a sheet. Pale, stormy eyes glared balefully out at the world, and her hair dripped like ink from her head, cascading past her angled features and down into her lap. She might have appeared beautiful if it weren’t for the harsh lines that marred her face, evidence of the scowls and glares that must have frequented it; the woman looked as though she had never been happy a day in her life.

Remus shuddered. The Empress was a truly frightening woman, fulfilling every expectation he’d had. Walburga Black, the Demon Queen.

He stood, riveted to the spot as he studied the monarchs, but his attention was suddenly snatched by a flash of movement at the Emperor’s left hand.

A young man with matching dark features had yawned in an exceptionally exaggerated manner, flinging his leg up and over the the arm of the couch he was sprawled across. It dangled there, swinging casually. He looked thoroughly pleased with his little display.

The Emperor didn’t seem to have noticed, but as Remus’s eyes shifted back to the queen, he felt a thrill of fear. If she had been giving _him_ the look she was now casting at her son, he would have put as much distance between them as physically possible.

Remus turned his attention back to the young man. He looked very much like his father, and although time and stress had worn away the monarch’s striking features, they hadn’t yet quelled his son’s. The heir to the empire appeared to be well aware of the fact, as he proceeded to wink cheekily at someone in the row below him. Remus felt a rush of disgust course through him.

~*~

Having managed to come down from the nausea, Sirius was in top form, and from the look she kept casting him, he knew Walburga was quickly regretting her decision to make him stay. He wondered vaguely how long it would take for his mother to carry out the threats she spat at him on a daily basis and throw herself across the stand to end his miserable existence.

Satisfied, _for now_ , with the amount of discomfort he had inflicted, Sirius turned his attention to the mangy group below.

They were a miserable, emaciated lot. They stood as if already dead, heads hanging and arms dangling limply at their sides. Sirius felt a small pang in his chest. He found himself hoping his father would, for once, skip the show and just put them out of their misery.

Sirius paused in his observance of the line, his attention drawn to a wolf standing near the end. The wolf had long, fiery red hair and a handsome face marred by lacerations. He stood, taller than the others, his shoulders thrown back and his steely gaze locked on Orion.

At least there was still one mutt they hadn’t managed to beat down.

Sirius grinned to himself, letting his gaze slide to the next beast. This wolf paled in comparison, both literally and figuratively. He looked dusty with his shaggy, dirty brown hair and earth-toned skin. Sirius had almost moved on, having quickly lost interest, when he froze.

The wolf was staring back at him.

No… _Observing_ – just as Sirius had been observing him.

Feeling slightly on edge, Sirius sat up a bit straighter, narrowing his eyes. The wolf matched his expression, his face drawing down in a scowl.

Sirius felt his skin prickle under the piercing, scrutinizing gaze. Irritated, he leaned forward, quirking his brow as he silently dared the wolf to keep staring. The wolf didn’t move except to narrow his eyes further. He didn’t even blink.

Sirius felt his mouth quiver, threatening to split into a smirk or a scowl, he wasn’t sure which. The wolf didn’t seem to care that he was chained in a line, waiting for his own execution. In fact, if the expression on his face was anything more than a facade, he appeared to believe he was an actual threat. He stood in the center of the arena with guards on all sides, his expression challenging, urging Sirius to leave the safety of his perch and join him.

Well, Sirius was not one to be easily intimidated; he was far too stubborn for that. Dogs just needed to be shown who was dominant.

Perhaps a different tactic would work.

Sirius leaned back, letting the silky material of his toga slide off his shoulder. He smiled lazily at the hesitation on the wolf’s face as he ran his fingers through his hair. When the wolf continued to glare, apparently just as stubborn as he was, Sirius blew him a kiss.

~*~

Remus’ jaw dropped open, his face burning. _What the hell was that?_

He felt ill as he looked away from the Black family heir, abandoning the strange, unspoken conflict that had passed between them.

“If any beast dares to disrupt the order of our noble society, and claim themselves an equal to humanity, we shall put them back in their place. We do not break bread with savage monsters. We are a united people, we are the protectors of civilization, we have fought against the beasts of this world and we have emerged victorious.”

The words forced their way back into Remus’ consciousness, causing him to instantly forget about the son. He felt an involuntary growl reverberate from deep in his throat and heard it echoed by the pack around him.

Orion peered down his nose at the scraggly row of beasts below him. “Shall we let the gods decide their fate?”

Remus jerked with surprise as the guards suddenly leapt into action. The soldier standing nearest to him closed his fingers around Remus’ collar. Remus cringed as the man forced his head down, another guard dragging the long chain out from their shackles, releasing the wolves from their line.

The ringing in Remus’ ears began again, his eyes popping in his skull. The fools had freed their hands.

Remus snarled, dropping to the ground and throwing his captor off balance. The guard yelped as he tumbled. Without a second thought, Remus lurched at the man, scooping up a fistful of sand and hurling it at the guard’s startled face.

The man howled, swiping at the blinding sand. Remus felt a thrill of excitement. If he was going to die here, at least he would take one of their pawns with him.

Before he could move in for the kill, Remus felt a strange throbbing pulse rush through his body. He halted in his tracks as the collar around his throat constricted, cutting into the tender skin.

“Wh-what th-” Remus wheezed, mouth agape as he struggled to force air through his rapidly closing windpipe.

“Fucking wretch!”

The guard’s fist collided with the side of his head. Remus stumbled back, gasping as dark red replaced the burst of white, pooling into his vision as the fresh cut above his eyebrow leaked down his face. He didn’t notice when the guards moved in, quickly weaving another chain through the left manacle.

“Quickly, those two.”

Remus blinked rapidly, his head pounding as, with agonizing slowness, the suffocating sensation ebbed and searing air rushed back into his lungs. He felt the guards tugging at his manacles, securing him, and then they too were gone.

Remus squinted through the pain, his gaze following where the chain, dangling from his left wrist, lead. Lucian’s pale face swam into view, connected at the other end.

“Oh fuck.” Lucian tugged feebly at the chain. “Those sick bastards.”

The Emperor’s voice rang through the stadium. “Begin.”


	7. The Power of Fear

A pile of weapons appeared in the center of the arena. The wolves remained stock still, staring from the pile on the ground to the partner they were chained to.

“They – they can’t expect us to fight each other?” William’s strained whisper broke through the tension, his face twisted in revulsion. Beside him, Alis gaped down at the pile of rusted weapons, the chain linking her to William rattling as she slipped her trembling hand in his. She turned her pale face to Remus, seeking some form of comfort in light of this new horror.

Remus clenched his fists furiously. He had prepared for death, expected an unfair fight at the most, but never something as twisted as this. This… this was truly inhuman.

~*~

Sirius found it strange how, growing up, his father’s sadistic nature had so often been overshadowed by Walburga’s violent abuse. Sirius had never feared Orion the way he feared his mother. In fact, the two of them had managed to create a relationship that could almost be considered affable.

That was why moments like this never failed to surprise him.

Sirius felt his stomach lurch as the wolves in the ring slowly came to the realization of what they were expected to do. Several of them were shaking their heads, others stood stock-still, gaping from the weapons to each other.

None of them moved.

“Ah, the instinctual loyalty of the beast,” Orion scoffed.

“Perhaps you should give them some incentive,” Walburga responded coolly, her eyes steely. “Let’s see how long their loyalty lasts.”

Orion sighed irritably, rising to his feet once again. He opened his mouth to speak, but this time the sound did not extend to the stands. He was speaking directly to the beasts.

~*~

“If you do not fight for your lives, every last one of you will stain the sand of this arena red.”

Remus jumped as the harsh voice of the emperor bore through his ears, entering his mind and taking root there. He recoiled, sickened by the violation as the voice finished silkily, “If you do fight, you will have a chance to earn your freedom.”

There was a rapid shift as the tension in the air became tangible.

“Don’t listen,” Remus murmured. “He’s lying. None of us are going to survive this.”

“But – but what if he’s telling the truth? Isn’t it better that s-some of us survive?” a wiry young wolf asked, twitching as his popping eyes leapt back and forth between the weapons and the rest of the pack.

“As if you’d be the one to survive this, Maggot,” the broad, snaggletooth wolf that had been paired with him growled, causing the frail boy to shrink, pulling feebly against the chain that connected them.

Remus could feel sweat breaking out on his brow that had nothing to do with the heat. “They’ve taken everything from us, don’t let them take our pride.”

“Those bastards have no loyalty and keep no promises, not to their kin or country, let alone us,” William snarled, causing several wolves to take a step back. “We die so that when we rejoin our leader, we can look him in the eye.”

“And if any of you move, I’ll cut you down myself,” the broad wolf snarled, rising to his full height.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” Orion’s voice murmured.

The snaggletooth wolf suddenly gasped, his tongue lolling out as the collar around his neck tightened, cutting into his skin. The man clawed at his throat, tearing hopelessly at the leather while the wiry wolf at his side looked on, his face transformed with terror.

With a sickening crunch, the beast’s neck broke and he dropped to the ground, gurgling and twitching until his eyes rolled back and he finally fell still.

A scream erupted from the wiry boy’s gaping mouth. He thrashed and wept, struggling to break free of the chain that connected him to his lifeless counterpart. “NO! NO I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

If Remus’ stomach hadn’t already been empty he would have retched. He reached out, unable to speak but desperate to calm the hysterical boy.

“Don’t you come near me! STAY BACK!” The boy shrieked, looking positively mad.

With a flash of light and a resounding click, the boy’s chain snapped and slid out of the manacle, freeing him from the carnage at his feet. All of the wolves fell silent, startled.

“You are free to go, beast.”

The boy gaped, his free hand held at a distance as if he feared it might come to life and throttle him. He took a slow step back, looking around at the shocked faces surrounding him, then up to the platform where the Emperor calmly watched. He continued his slow retreat, his expression frozen in a look of utter disbelief.

Remus could feel the air buzzing as the wolves looked back and forth between the Emperor and the boy, expecting some sort of retaliation. But the boy kept moving until he reached the gate, which opened as he approached and swallowed him back into the safety of the maze beneath the stadium.

“You will fight, and if you win, you will join your comrade and gain your freedom.”

The Emperor’s words fell on the group like a palpable weight, nearly causing Remus’ knees to buckle beneath him.

There was a brief, heart-stopping pause as the pack stood, rooted to the spot – and then the storm was unleashed.

Two chained wolves rushed forward, working in tandem as they dove for the weapons. A third followed, but was jerked back by the beast on the other end of his chain, who dropped him to the ground, fury lining every inch of his face.

“No!” Remus gasped, as the pack quickly unraveled, falling into chaos.

“It’s no use Remus, they’re afraid!” Lucian snapped. “Move quick or we’ll both die!”

Remus stumbled as Lucian yanked at their chain, dragging him forward. He barely had time to register what was happening before a pair of beasts slammed into him, wrapping their chain around his throat and throwing him to the ground. One of the wolves, who had managed to get her hands on a weapon, raised it, ready to drive it home.

“Mima!” Remus gasped with recognition. Desperate, he reached up, gripping her quaking wrist. “Mima stop! Why are you doing this!?”

Mima stared down at him, her mouth opening and closing but no words escaping. There was a scream somewhere in the distance, and her pupils dilated. She jerked her arm sharply, freeing it from Remus’ grasp, and plunged the dagger down.

Lucian, who had fallen with Remus, grabbed at Mima’s chain, jerking her violently away from him. Before she could recover, Lucian slammed his foot down on her hand. Mima yelped as her fingers broke, forcing her to relinquish her grip on the blade. Lucian snatched up the dagger, and with an inhuman roar, stabbed it through her chest.

“It’s fucking blunt! Those bastards couldn’t even give us a blade that would leave a clean cut,” Lucian spat, stabbing the struggling girl again.

“Lucian don’t!” Remus cried in dismay as Mima’s dead weight fell against him, her eyes glassy.

“What, would you rather have her suffer!?”

Remus felt his body going numb as the other wolf dragged at Mima’s limp form, desperately trying to get out of range of Lucian’s blade. Lucian snarled, crawling forward to finish the job but Remus held him back, keeping a firm hold of the chain as he disentangled himself from the girl and allowed the other wolf to pull her away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Remus couldn’t stop shaking. “We could have–!”

“For fuck’s sake Remus!” Lucian pulled desperately against the chain, his face twisted with fury and hysteria as he shrieked, “We’ve lost our pack! It’s gone, the Empire won! So either we fight them or they kill us.”

“We can’t kill each other, _we can’t, Lucian!”_ Remus shouted despairingly.

“We’re already killing each other! Loyalty means jack-shit when death is staring you right in the face. We’re fucking animals, Remus! Gods, of course I get stuck with the noble idiot who’s going to get us both killed.”

He was right. The arena had turned into a full-blown war zone.

Lucian reached down, grabbing a discarded blade on the ground. He stormed over to Remus, shoving it into his untethered hand. “If your goddam nobility gets me butchered, I will throw your ass out of the boat and drown you in the Styx!”

The world around Remus was spinning, the sword in his hand suddenly overwhelmingly heavy. Lucian jerked and raised his blade as a pair of figures appeared behind them. Remus cried out, catching Lucian’s hand as it swung down.

“Wait, Lucian, it’s alright!” Remus choked with relief at the sight of William’s fiery red hair.

William had quickly moved to block Lucian’s blade from Alis, who stood closely behind him, her eyes red and wide. The tall man’s expression softened with relief at the sight of Remus. “At least someone still has their wits,” he snarled, casting Lucian a disgusted look.

Lucian rolled his eyes, but let his blade drop, his body still tense.

“We have to stick together.” The words rushed out of Remus’ mouth as several pairs of wolves began to draw closer. “Defense only.”

“Defense isn’t going to stop–”

“Defense only,” Remus snarled, glaring at Lucian. “All four of us are skilled fighters, we can wear them out, draw them away from each other until we can talk some sense into them.”

William jerked his head in understanding, his lips set in a grim line. Alis followed suit, gripping her blade tightly.

“You’re mad. All three of you,” Lucian groaned.

~*~

It was an utter bloodbath in the ring, and Sirius found he couldn’t look away. A piercing, animalistic shriek reached his ears and sent a shudder through his entire body as he gripped the arm of the couch, knuckles white.

“This is why they are called beasts,” Orion remarked, amused by Sirius’ evident distress. “Utterly barbaric… no better than animals.”

Sirius hated the idea of agreeing with anything his father had to say, but he couldn’t stop himself from nodding. He had never seen such a brutal display in his life.

The wolves had looked so frail moments ago, nearly wasted away to nothing. But something had altered, and the way they were moving now was unlike anything he had ever seen. He felt fear slowly creeping up his spine as the wolves threw themselves at each other, tearing and biting and ripping. It wasn’t a full moon, but many appeared to have shifted, becoming more beast than human.

Not all of them, however.

Sirius recognized the dusty wolf from before. He stood next to the tall red head, with two smaller beasts at their side. The four of them were huddled, speaking. Sirius felt a wave of anxiety hit him as another pair of wolves targeted them, rushing in for the kill while they were distracted. The four wolves separated just in time, and Sirius watched in amazement as they began to fight.

It was the most intricate dance he’d ever seen. The four wolves were outrageously skilled, weaving through the tangle of fighters with ease. Even tethered together, they managed to move like one unit, leaping in and out of their attackers’ reach. They weren’t retaliating.

It was an incredible game of defense. Sirius leaned so far forward he was resting on his feet instead of the couch.

He winced as the red-head was nearly stabbed from behind, and almost jumped to his feet when the powerful beast dodged at the last moment, using the momentum to lift the young woman at his side and swing her around. With a violent kick she connected with the attacking wolf’s skull and the beast hit the ground, out cold.

The dusty wolf and his thin-framed partner used the chain itself as a weapon, dodging each attack and whipping it across the ground, sending their opponents sprawling.

Sirius watched in bewilderment as the dusty wolf halted in his tracks, his arms raised in front of him – he was attempting to calm the female wolves bearing down on him. Both of the women ignored him, weapons drawn as they advanced.

In a flash, the women launched forward. The wolf’s hands dropped and he and his partner simultaneously wrapped their chain around the ankles of the nearest girl. The duo then yanked upward, causing the female wolf to flip through the air, the violent momentum sending her counterpart crumbling to the ground with her.

Not once did they use their weapons except to deflect. Sirius watched in amazement. He found himself silently rooting for the small group of defenders.

Perhaps they’d make it through this alive.

~*~

Remus could feel the strain of his atrophied muscles. His body was moving, but each step was hindered as the shock settled in. After so long in the cells, Remus’ veins throbbed as the stagnant blood picked up its pace, seeping through him like mud and causing his skin to prickle painfully.

No one was listening. So many of them had fallen already. Lucian was panting heavily next to him, the fear settling back in.

“We’re not going to last. If we don’t finish them they’ll keep coming back until they kill us.”

Remus felt his willpower fading. Realistically, he couldn’t keep this up. He turned to scan the area, searching desperately for William and Alis. They were easy to spot, William’s tall frame and bright hair shining like a beacon amongst the milling bodies. Remus sighed with relief. They were alright.

“Let’s regroup,” Lucian said, drawing Remus’ attention back. “We’ve strayed too far from –” The words died on his tongue, his face blanching. Remus slowly followed the direction of his gaze.

William knelt, crouched and trembling over the unmoving form of Alis. He lifted her slowly and cradled her now empty vessel against him. Her head lolled back, eyes staring wide and unseeing at the sky.

“How–? How did… she was fine,” Lucian whispered, his voice cracking.

William pulled Alis closer, his face buried in her hair, shoulder’s shaking. Remus couldn’t breathe.

_Not Alis…_

Remus watched, helpless, as a wolf lying near William suddenly twitched and rolled over, slowly rising to his knees. His partner was dead and trampled in the dirt, and his weight would prevent the man from getting far. But the beast had a frightening, wild look on his face that was beyond reason. With a snarl, he launched at Williams’ discarded weapon.

William’s body went rigid, his eyes flying wide and his lips curling into a terrifying expression. With a roar he rose, whirling around. His hand closed around the throat of the attacker and a moment later blood was spilling down the man’s front.

“Hades…” Lucian swore, his eyes wide with fright.

William stalked forward, Alis dragging behind him. He turned to peer back at her, the rage and pain fleeting across his face replaced by a much darker look. He slowly reached down, picking up the blade. Remus gasped as William brought the blade down on Alis, severing her hand.

“William!” he cried, rushing forward.

“No Remus!” Lucian dug his heels into the sand, his eyes wide with panic.

William turned, his face morphing. With a snarl he surged forward, moving far faster than humanly possible. He raced across the stadium, creating a trail of carnage in his wake. Each body fell before the previous one could hit the ground.

“He’s gone fucking mad,” Lucian hissed, using all of his weight to pull Remus away. “We have to run, we can’t fight William.”

Remus couldn’t move, his body wouldn’t react.

“So help me,” Lucian hissed over his shoulder, “I will use you as a human shield!”

“What’s the point?” Remus whispered.

“Gods Remus,” Lucian snapped, tugging sharply at the chain binding them together. “Could you possibly be any more pathetic?”

“Romulus is dead… everyone is dead, Lucian!”

“Right. Their lives were taken from them,” Lucian snarled, yanking the chain so Remus was forced down to eye level. His expression was desperate as he finished, “but they fought for life Remus. You’d be a damned, ungrateful fool to just give yours away.”

At that moment, there was a sudden hush.

Everything had become so chaotic, Remus had forgotten about the crowd. The ceaseless jeering and screaming had become nothing more than background noise. The sudden absence of it made the pounding in his ears sound like a howl, his entire body pulsing.

Lucian and Remus both turned, drawn to a new noise filling the stadium. The gate at the far end had opened.

The rumble of the crowd slowly picked up again, the volume rising louder and louder until it peaked at a deafening roar. From the dark abyss emerged the cause of the uproar.

Fenrir stepped onto the bloodied sand of the stadium, his face split in a deranged grin.


	8. A Bloody Game

“FENRIR!” The name ripped its way out of William’s throat, rising above the shouts of the crowd and echoing across the field. Fenrir responded with a sickeningly eager leer, made all the more haunting by the scars scattered across his face and the grotesque shadows they cast.

William screamed, launching himself at the monster. Fenrir rooted his feet in the sand, his flesh rippling as the wolf began to take hold. With a roar he hurled himself forward, his dense, heavy form matching William’s pace with ease. Without thinking, Remus felt himself following. Alone, they couldn’t beat him, but if they worked in tandem–

Lucian swore as Remus surged after William. He pulled back against the chain, but Remus used his weight to overwhelm the smaller man.

“Remus NO! Are you mad!? He’ll pick his teeth with our ribs!” Lucian cried, trying and failing to hinder Remus. “Goddamit, why the hell won’t anyone listen to me!? I’m a fucking strategist– ”

“Move or I’ll drag you the entire way!” Remus snarled, breaking into a labored run. Lucian relented and let loose a steady stream of curses as they raced across the arena, his volume escalating with each colorful phrase as they drew closer to Fenrir.

William and Fenrir had reached the center. With a sickening sound, they collided in a violent tempest of claws and teeth, their weapons discarded and forgotten.

~*~

Sirius felt sick. The world was swimming in front of him and he couldn’t bring his vision back into focus. He had seen Fenrir in action before. The beast had once been a contender in the arena, the crowd favorite, before Orion found a better use for his _talents_. But Sirius had never seen him take so much delight in his craft.

Fenrir, his face alight with hellish ecstasy, hurled the other wolf to the ground. The beast’s head hit with a sickening, reverberating thud. Blood-soaked sand erupted from beneath him, fanning out and blending with his rusty locks in a beautifully macabre pattern.

Sirius gaped. It had happened so fast. He’d sat, transfixed, as the red-headed wolf had ravaged the field, taking down every opponent in his path – yet Fenrir had ended him in an instant.

Reeling, he watched as Fenrir straightened and strode over to the fallen wolf. He circled the red-head, kicking sand over the beast’s motionless form with one sandaled foot. The crowd shrieked with laughter as he pulled a coin from his tunic and placed it on the beast’s eye, smirking.

Sirius was so transfixed by the morbid display that he nearly jumped out of his skin when two figures came careening out of nowhere, slamming into Fenrir with enough force to send him flying backwards.

The duo scrambled back out of Fenrir’s reach. With a thrill of excitement, Sirius recognized the dusty wolf, who had dropped to his knees next to his fallen comrade, furiously snatching up the coin and brushing the sand away. He wrapped the wolf up in his arms, gathering his limp form as close to his body as possible.

The tragic intimacy of the moment made Sirius feel like an intruder, but he couldn’t look away. He watched as the wolf spoke, saying his goodbyes.

_Or perhaps not._

The wolf rocked back and forth, his face lined with desperation and focus. His mouth formed the same words over and over again, but Sirius couldn’t make out what he was saying. Suddenly, there was a burst of light, pale blue, that pulsed through the huddled duo. It happened so quickly that Sirius nearly missed it. He gripped the arm of the couch, his strained breathing giving way to a gasp as the red-headed wolf’s mouth slowly fell open, his chest expanding and filling with air.

_He was alive?_

~*~

Lucian stared, his eyes wide. “What did you just do?”

Remus stared down at the man in his arms, shocked into silence. His body was still tingling, a strange sort of vibration pulsing through it. He felt the collar around his neck constrict for a moment, the skin beneath it burning, but it quickly faded, leaving no trace of the bizarre sensation. “I don’t know.”

Lucian gripped Remus’ shoulder painfully as William’s eyes fluttered opened.

“Gods, I feel like shit.”

Remus turned his disbelieving gaze to Lucian, who stared unblinkingly back at him, his expression strange and unreadable. The man peeled his fingers back from Remus’ shoulder, his eyes flitting back and forth between the two wolves at his feet and Fenrir.

“What happened?” William grumbled, wincing as he attempted to push himself up on his elbows.

“You’re a lunatic, that’s what happened,” Lucian snapped.

Fenrir had risen. He brushed himself off, his expression a strange combination of irritation and amusement. He made no move to pursue them, but instead folded his arms, observing.

William grimaced, reaching a shaking hand up and pressing it to the back of his head. When he pulled it away, it was stained entirely red. “So, that’s what happened.”

Remus felt the weight of the situation bearing down, draining any energy he had left. He had thought there was no hope of beating Fenrir without William’s aid. Now he realized that there had never been a chance.

William let his arm fall back to the sand, his expression flickering between composed and broken. “I lost control. Alis will be disappointed in me.”

Remus didn’t know how to respond. William smiled sadly as Remus struggled to say something, _anything,_ to comfort him.

“He’s coming,” Lucian hissed, backing away as Fenrir swayed lazily towards them.

The beast stopped just short of them, grinning. “You know what? I like you William.”

Remus felt William go rigid in his arms. Fenrir glanced up at the Emperor, quirking a dark brow as he gestured down to the fallen wolf. The Emperor rose to his feet and the crowd fell silent, collectively holding their breath.

“An act of mercy has been called for,” Orion declared, his voice echoing through the stadium. “The wolf lives to fight again.”

The crowd, pleased with the verdict, roared and stamped in approval. Clearly they had enjoyed William’s fighting enough to keep him around. Remus stared down at the man in his arms. William could only gape back, his expression morphing from shock to agony. “Kill me.”

Remus’ heart shuddered to a stop. “William–”

“Kill me!” William begged as a group of guards moved onto the field.

Remus couldn’t move. William gazed up at him, weak and broken, pleading with him to act… but his mind had gone completely blank. The guards approached and before Remus could react, tore William from his arms. Remus leapt to his feet as they began dragging the injured wolf away.

“Wait!”

Remus, who had opened his mouth to say the same thing, turned to face Fenrir. He had halted one of the guards in passing. Fenrir yawned, gesturing to Lucian. “Him too.”

Lucian’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“But the Emperor didn’t–” the guard quickly fell silent under Fenrir’s steady gaze, sweat breaking out on his brow. “I… of – of course.”

The guards rushed forward, detaching Lucian from Remus. Lucian stared, wide-eyed, as the chain fell to the ground between them. Without another word, they dragged him away after William.

Remus was now alone in the arena with Fenrir.

Time seemed to slow as the two locked eyes. Remus’ senses were on hyper alert, his peripheral vision blurring as he focused in on Fenrir. He felt the vibration in the ground as the large beast took a step forward, his hair standing on end as the ringing in his ears returned.

Fenrir gave Remus a once-over, taking in the scratches and bruises scattered across his body. “You fared well. Good.”

Remus held his ground, acutely aware of how much effort it took to do so. “Not like you to wait for the scraps. Were you enjoying the comfort of your cell?”

“Would have liked a better view.”

“While you waited for the threat to dwindle. Convenient.”

Fenrir chuckled. “This is why you’re my favorite. You try so hard, Remus.”

Remus could feel his face twitching, the pressure in his head building as he glared. “Try what, exactly?”

“You’re a rare find, Remus. You have hope for people, and it makes you _brave_. The way you used to talk was exhilarating – like watching a child weave elaborate stories of glory and valor to combat the horrors that plague their dreams.” Fenrir grinned, licking his lips as he continued, “You lived in your own world, a world where people were good. It was touching – and so _naive_. You always tried so hard to be human.”

The sun had lost its warmth. Remus shuddered. “We _are_ human.”

“No, we’re not Remus.” Fenrir’s eyes locked hungrily on the younger wolf. “We’re better than that. We’re _monsters_.”

Remus leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the brunt of Fenrir’s sudden attack. The beast’s fist barely grazed his shoulder, but it stung all the same. Fenrir’s strength was staggering, and he was obscenely fast for a creature of his size. If he managed to land a blow, Remus knew he would never get up.

He threw himself out of the way of another attack, hitting the ground at a run. He was faster, and quickly got out of range, scooping up a sword and dagger.

He halted in his tracks, whirling around as the other beast barreled toward him. Taking a brief moment to aim, he hurled the dagger at Fenrir. Fenrir, who was quickly gaining ground, ducked. The blade split his forehead, sending a torrent of blood pouring down his face.

Remus’ eyes widened as the beast, completely unfazed, continued his pursuit. His expression was hungry, the blood filling his unblinking orange gaze and spilling out like monstrous tears. Remus dropped to avoid Fenrir’s claws as they scraped through the air above him, the force rustling his hair. He swung the sword and kicked off, blade catching Fenrir across the wrist as his fist hit the sand where Remus had been moments before.

Remus rolled and scrambled back to his feet, panting as he took off again. Every action was met quickly and violently by his rival, giving him no time to think or strategize. He was running purely on instinct at this point – and his strength was rapidly fading…

~*~

The dusty wolf was quickly losing his ground, the exhaustion beginning to take hold, and Sirius had no desire to witness the inevitable. Leaning close enough for the words to reach his father, Sirius muttered, “I’m afraid I don’t possess the constitution for this. I think I’d better take my leave–”

“You’ll stay where you are,” Walburga snapped, her icy gaze on the arena.

Sirius clenched his jaw, breathing in sharply through his nose. “If my showering the crowd with the contents of this morning’s meal is what you want–”

“I want you to watch this.”

Sirius’ chest became rigid, his lungs refusing to expand. His breath began to come out in short, strained bursts. He cursed inwardly, furious that Walburga had managed to bring back the panic that had plagued him as a child… the fear that he had struggled for years to overcome.

He could flirt with the idea of defying her, but in the end she would always find a way to widen the net and ensnare him again. He was trapped, and he knew it.

He gripped the arm of the couch, closing his eyes. She might be able to keep him here, but she couldn’t make him watch. The din of the plebeians weaved in and out of his thoughts as he urged his mind to wander elsewhere. His pulse had almost normalized when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Walburga’s cold, willowy fingers crawled over each shoulder, the jewel-encrusted rings scraping against his neck. For one wild moment he thought she might strangle him, but instead her nails buried into his collarbone, forcing his head forward. Sirius’ heart stopped as she hissed, “Open your eyes, or I will open them for you.”

Sirius couldn’t hear anything outside of his own breathing. The blood quickly drained from his face and his eyes fluttered open involuntarily.

“You have always been weak, and I have only myself to blame. I was too lenient,” Walburga whispered. “I intend to correct that, and rid you of your cowardice.”

Somewhere, beneath the mounting dread that was quickly threatening to overwhelm him, Sirius felt rage starting to bubble to the surface. The fear was no longer enough – he understood Walburga’s limitations now. She could threaten all she wanted, but she could do nothing worse than what she had already done to him.

There was no other heir. The title was a trap for them both, preventing her from ending his life, and preventing him from living it.

Sirius stared down at the gore below, at the beast who was fighting desperately for life, trapped in a nightmare – and something clicked.

Sirius was caged, but he wasn’t going to submit without a fight.

“I want him.”

Silence met his statement. Orion, who had clearly overheard the exchange between his wife and son, turned slightly.

“What?”

“Anyone. You agreed to _anyone of my choosing_.” Sirius raised his arm and pointed, his eyes boring into the lithe figure in the arena. He felt something warm and wet drip down his chest as his mother’s grip tightened painfully. For some reason, the sensation was exhilarating.

_He had won._

“He’s the one I want.”

~*~

Every muscle in Remus’ body was screaming in protest; every breath he took sending stabbing pains through his chest. He wheezed, struggling to take in enough air to settle the vertigo that threatened to send him tumbling to the earth. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when they opened Fenrir was there. Remus barely managed to dodge another near-fatal blow, Fenrir’s claws sending his dark blood splattering across the arena.

He bit back the scream in his throat before it could escape, the sweat from his efforts dripping down his forehead to blind him. His bones felt as if they might splinter. His body was betraying him and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

“You’re tired,” Fenrir sighed as Remus narrowly dodged another attack. “I wish I could have gotten to you before. So boring.”

Remus stumbled back as another wave of vertigo struck him. His heel caught on one of the many bodies strewn across the stadium, twisting painfully, and he barely managed to cry out before his back hit the ground. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and his eyes flew wide, the pain from his ankle confirming his fear. _He wouldn’t be able to run away anymore._

“Well this position looks familiar, doesn’t it?” Fenrir’s leering face appeared over Remus, and he gasped as the beast dropped down, digging his knee into the fallen wolf’s chest.

Remus’ body tensed as he tried to muster up the strength to fight back… but what did he have to live for anymore? He was so tired. The fact that it was over almost came as a relief.

The empire had won.

Remus dropped his head back, the energy fleeing from his body in one fell swoop, and gazed up at the sky. He lay like that for a while, taking in the pale blue expanse above him. Time slowed, and he started to notice different shapes drifting in the clouds…

_Why was he still alive?_

The wolf shifted his gaze to Fenrir, whose attention had turned elsewhere. Slowly, Remus followed the beast’s gaze. He jolted, eyes wide.

The Emperor had risen from his seat, his hand held high, effectively halting the fight. Remus felt a low growl reverberate through Fenrir, the monster’s fiery eyes turning to bore into his prey. With a snarl, he rose, stepping away from Remus.

The crowd howled in protest at the unexpected act of mercy. Remus couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why had they decided to spare him?

A pair of soldiers approached Remus, lifting him from the dirt like a rag doll and forcing him to his feet, their rough hands gripping him tightly by the arms. He gasped as they dragged him forward, pain shooting up his leg as he stumbled onto his injured foot.

“Where are you taking me?”

The soldiers ignored him. Remus locked eyes with Fenrir as they hauled him past. The beast’s expression was contemplative, intrigued.

And then he was gone… along with the rest of the world.


	9. The Heir

Remus gasped as the arena warped and vanished, an unpleasant tugging sensation dragging him forward. He was being compressed, his skin becoming malleable, stretching across his chest and sinking into his ribs. His breath forced its way back down his throat. He feared he’d fold in on himself, the pressure was so overwhelming. But as quickly as the terrifying sensation came, it was gone, and Remus found himself in a completely different setting.

He stood, quaking, the guards' iron grip on either arm the only thing keeping him from tumbling to the ground. Nausea hit him like a hammer to the head. The guards jumped back as he dropped to his knees, retching onto the colorful tile beneath him.

It took a moment for Remus to regain control as the guards shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, waiting for the convulsions to stop wracking his body. Remus’ joints creaked, his limbs shaking as he gulped for air, urging himself to stay conscious and alert. With one more calming breath, he opened his eyes. A pair of sandaled feet stood before him, one tapping lazily.

“Better out than in I suppose?”

The guards jumped at the sudden appearance of the stranger, hastily lifting Remus to his feet. The jostling nearly caused him to lose it again. He swallowed down the bitter burning in his throat, raising his head to meet a familiar pair of striking grey eyes.

The Emperor’s son stood before him, a pleasant smile gracing his features as he looked Remus up and down. Remus resisted the urge to recoil, suddenly overcome by a new wave of dread. Whatever had transpired between himself and the Heir in the ring came rushing back to him.

Had the man decided to prolong the torture? Did Orion’s sadism extend to the son? _Of course_ they couldn’t have just let him die in the ring. Remus shuddered – he wouldn’t let them break him. He’d–

“What’s your name, wolf?”

Remus was startled out of his panicked thoughts. The Heir quirked his brow expectantly, waiting. Remus licked his dry, cracking lips, his voice coming out hoarse as he retorted, “What does it matter?”

The Heir chuckled. “Looks like we’ll have to work on your manners. Here, a little demonstration.” Remus jumped as the man took a step forward, carefully avoiding the mess on the floor.

“My name is Sirius, and may I say what a _sincere_ pleasure it is to meet you.”

~*~

Sirius could see the muscles in the beast’s jaw clench stubbornly, his eyes narrowing as he silently dared Sirius to take one more step.

Looked like he wouldn’t be getting that name any time soon.

Sirius took the moment of tense silence that followed to get a clear look at the nameless wolf before him. He was tall – at least half a head taller than Sirius, and he was absolutely covered in dirt, blood and sweat. Sirius could hardly make out any distinguishing features in the mess. The only thing that stood out were the beast’s eyes. They had started out a soft honey color, but as the wolf became more agitated they shifted to bright amber.

Sirius liked those eyes. He grinned, taking a careful step back. The wolf deflated slightly, the tension easing at the loss in proximity.

“You – are absolutely _filthy.”_

~*~

Remus bristled at Sirius’ teasing tone. “Haven’t had much time for a wash lately.”

“We’ll have to rectify that, won’t we?” Sirius murmured.

Remus shifted, feeling thoroughly disconcerted. All of this idle chatter was setting him on edge. _What on earth did he want?_

Sirius seemed to sense his rising discomfort. He turned to the guards, gesturing to each of them as he spoke. “You, clean this up. You, bring him.”

Without further explanation, Sirius turned on his heel, heading down the hall. The guards sighed, casting each other irritable looks behind the Heir’s retreating back.

“A’right, get movin' mutt.”

Remus was forced forward. He limped along, the pain in his ankle having settled to a dull throb, which he hardly noticed – he was thoroughly distracted by the scenery.

Now that he wasn’t too busy defiling it, Remus could study the tile beneath his feet. His eyes widened as he took in the stunning mosaics depicting battles and gods and quests. He had never seen such masterfully crafted art. The mythical figures looked as though they were alive.

Remus nearly jumped out of his skin as one of the gods opened its mouth and barked, “Tracking mud everywhere! Disgraceful.”

“It – it talked!” Remus blurted, turning wild-eyed to the guard. The guard gave him an incredulous look.

“Of course he talks. Gods above, he picked ‘imself a stupid one din’t he?”

Remus gaped and turned back to stare at the floor, which was now engaging in a ferocious battle against the Hydra. He reluctantly allowed himself to be guided from the atrium and into a lush indoor courtyard. Roses and hyacinths lined the walkway, their brilliant array of colors appearing foreign and strange after so much time spent in the dust. In the center of a large fountain, a beautifully carved harpy preened herself, light glinting off of her sapphire eyes as she turned her marble head to observed the intruders. Remus’ jaw dropped lower and lower with each step. He had never seen such extravagance in his life.

Sirius cast an amused look over his shoulder, apparently enjoying the awed look on Remus’ face. Remus quickly shut his mouth, cursing inwardly at having been caught admiring his captor’s home. He refused to look up again until they reached their destination.

Sirius halted in front of a large, intricately carved door.

“Leave him and go.”

The guard stared, dumbfounded. “You – you want me to leave you with ‘im?”

Sirius gave the man a withering look. “Have you gone temporarily deaf, or are you purposefully defying me?”

“I – no my lord, of course not, I just…” The guard cast a wary look at Remus. “I don’t think the Empress would approve of me leaving you alone with–“

“Oh please. I can assure you, she’ll be far more disappointed if you prevent my untimely death,” Sirius snorted.

The guard remained where he was, fidgeting as he compared the two options. Clearly his fear of the Empress’ retribution exceeded his fear of her son.

Sirius’ expression darkened. For a moment, he looked remarkably like his mother. “Do you think me incapable of handling myself?”

Remus watched the blood drain from the guard’s face as he stuttered his apologies, pulling his hand away from Remus as though he’d been burned. Sirius watched, stony-faced, as the guard backed away and marched stiffly in the direction from which they'd come.

They were alone.

Remus raised himself to his full height, his skin prickling as he scrutinized Sirius. The Heir was completely unarmed, yet he looked perfectly at ease. Remus tensed, his hackles rising. It would be so easy, only a few feet separated them…

 _Why was Sirius so calm?_ Remus faltered, suddenly wary. There was no way he was defenseless in the presence of a wolf. It had to be a trap.

Sirius turned, opening the door behind him. Remus went rigid as steam poured out from the chamber beyond.

_He was going to be boiled alive._

“Let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Sirius grinned, gesturing for Remus. Remus stared, his heart racing wildly as Sirius turned and disappeared into the haze. The wolf hesitated, debating furiously with himself. Sirius had shown no signs of hostility so far; if Remus played along, perhaps he’d be able to discover what the Heir wanted with him, or formulate some way to escape.

Remus braced himself, nails digging into his palms as he made up his mind and plunged into the steam after Sirius.

The haze had dissipated a bit inside the chamber, revealing a massive pool in the center of the room. The scented oils caused the water to shimmer in a variety of unnatural colors. Every once in a while, the surface of the pool would ripple and let off another bout of steam, as if an invisible attendant was maintaining the bath. Remus became acutely aware of his own odor as it clashed horribly with the fragrant smell of lavender.

“I know it’s lovely to look at, but it’s a lot nicer when you're in it.”

Remus jumped. He had almost forgotten about Sirius. He turned to find the Heir standing far too close, a bold smirk on his lips.

“You wish for me to bathe?” Remus asked, bewildered. “Why?”

“Because you stink,” Sirius responded bluntly.

“I’m aware,” Remus grumbled, casting the heir an aggravated look. “But what does that matter? Why have you brought me h–”

Remus’ breath caught in his throat as the other man closed the distance between them, allowing his stormy eyes to glide brazenly downward. The condensation had collected around Remus’ brow and slipped into the hollow of his collar bones, dripping and leaving pale streaks through the filth that coated his skin. His tunic, sticky with sweat, clung to him in ways that made Remus feel uncomfortably exposed – despite the barrier of cloth between himself and Sirius’ gaze.

“Would you like my help, or do you think you can fare on your own?” Sirius teased, sliding a finger along the neck of Remus’ tunic and pulling the damp material downward. Remus took a hurried step back, nearly slipping on the slick floor.

“I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself,” he rasped as he righted himself.

An expectant silence followed his statement, and Remus suddenly became acutely aware of his own strained breathing. Sirius simply stood there, arms folded… _waiting._ “I don’t need your supervision to bathe,” Remus said slowly, his hands closing into fists at his side as he struggled to quell the rising discomfort.

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up, bestowing him with a surprised and mildly amused expression. “Well that’s new,” he chuckled, gesturing to a stone bench at the end of the tub. “Very well. There are some fresh clothes for you, and when you’ve finished, I’ll be through that door. You can ask your questions then. Take as much time as you’d like.”

Remus watched warily as Sirius made his way from the room, the steam billowing in and hiding him from view. The door clicked, and after a few moments of silence, in which Remus wondered if Sirius _really_ had left, he turned to face the bath.

The whole situation was ridiculous. Why had he been spared? Why was he, an _enemy,_ being treated as a guest? What on earth could the Heir to the Empire want with a werewolf? Remus ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance and grimaced at the gritty sensation. He was so covered in dirt and the-gods-only-knew-what-else, he felt about ready to crawl out of his own skin.

His questions would have to wait.

Remus plucked absently at his shirt, then with a sigh lifted it up over his head, wincing as the material clung to the drying blood on his torso. After some awkward fumbling, the tunic fell to the ground, followed quickly by the rest of his clothing. In vain he attempted to remove the collar, but at his touch it constricted warningly, and he let his hands drop.

He descended the steps into the pool, easing his way into the hot water. The temperature automatically adjusted to fit his preferences as he submerged himself, almost groaning with pleasure. He couldn’t remember ever having a bath. Back at the den it had always been a quick scrub in the frigid river.

After weeks in captivity, this was absolute _heaven._

Remus dunked his head under, letting the sweetly scented water wash away all the blood and grime. For one blissful moment, he allowed his mind to go blank as his senses were put on hold.

The slight sting from the many cuts and gashes across his body brought him back to reality. He popped back up and got to work cleaning the wounds, many of which had already started to heal. The one above his eyebrow was now nothing more than a tender scar.

He gazed down at himself as more and more of his skin was slowly revealed. The additional injuries from the ring had merged with the scars that already littered his body, adding to the macabre map of his life. Remus caught sight of his reflection and stilled, waiting for the ripples to settle. He stared at the mirror image, with its hollow cheeks and haunted eyes. The person in the pool was foreign to him, someone he didn’t know. He hated looking at it.

The wolf quickly finished cleaning up, scrubbing until his skin was pink and raw. He rose from the pool, shaking off. There was a startling slurping sound and Remus looked down to find the water in the bath swirling, forming a small whirlpool. It disappeared completely, then slowly began to refill. He shook his head in amazement.

As a child, Remus had shown some magical abilities. Basic, instinctual bursts of magic that had withered and died as he grew older, just as it did with all wolves. He had never seen magic used so effectively, hadn’t even set foot in a wizarding house except on the rare occasion that they ran out of supplies and had to resort to theft – but he hadn’t had a lot of time to look around then.

It was truly remarkable. Attempting to quell the unbidden awe he felt, he turned and lifted the clothes from the bench. The material nearly slipped through his fingers, it was so soft. He pulled the sleeveless tunic over his head, the weight of the situation setting in again. Sirius had pulled him from the ring, spared him… but to what end? He fastened the leather belt the heir had provided absently, at a complete loss. Slowly he turned to face the door.

It was time he had some of his questions answered.


	10. A New Way Of Life

Sirius pushed the heavy door closed, the steam dissipating as cool air from the open balcony washed over him. He leaned against the dark wood and allowed his head to drop back, basking in his victory. He had never seen Walburga so incensed. For a moment her mask had been removed and the madwoman unleashed. If Orion had not been present, he had no doubt she would have finished him.

The nail-marks his mother had gifted him were still stinging. It was a satisfying sort of pain, a badge of honor. Part of him wanted to let the wounds scar as a visual reminder of her shame. He gingerly pressed a hand up to the tender flesh, hissing through his teeth.

_Gods, it felt good._

Sirius grinned and turned his head, pressing his ear to the cool wood. The nameless wolf on the other side was silent, unmoving. Sirius felt a prickle at the base of his neck that had nothing to do with his mother’s claw-marks. He could just picture the wolf’s clear amber eyes burning a hole in the door through the mask of filth that hid his features.

An impatient sound escaped his lips. He wanted to see the beast _without_ the bothersome extra layers. He felt his fingers twitch on the door handle, but caught himself. The wolf had made his unease very clear. Sirius had to admit, the beast’s reaction puzzled him. He wasn’t used to having his advances denied. Perhaps the wolf was shy, a concept that, Sirius had to admit, was completely foreign to him. That was something that would change with time he supposed; for now, he would give the wolf his privacy. Sighing, he pushed himself away from the door, begrudgingly making his way over to the large basin.

He reached into the marble bowl and it filled instantly, pooling around his hands. Catching his reflection in the water, Sirius blanched.

_Oh Gods, was that what he looked like?_

His hair was a mess, deflated and stringy after a full day in the sweltering sun. He looked sweaty and tired, and was quickly beginning to regret vexing Walburga; the marks she left across his neck were angry and swollen – not remotely flattering.

_What a lovely first impression._

Sirius groaned in humiliation, plopping his head down into the basin. He winced as the cool, sweetly scented water stung the sun-scorched skin across his nose. He sighed irritably into the water, bubbles bursting from his mouth and tickling his face.

 _What he wouldn’t give to have a bath._ It was a shame the wolf had been so unobliging.

Sirius quickly rinsed off what he could, fussing over the state of his hair. When he was satisfied that he no longer resembled a mangy mutt, he drew his wand from its sheath at his side, flicking it casually towards the silk robes that had been placed at the foot of his bed. The colorful fabric fluttered and drifted lazily over to him.

He glanced between the choices, sizing them up. He’d been picky in his requests this evening – something light and flowy, mildly revealing… and easy to remove.

Sirius settled on a dark red material, grinning as memories of the last time he’d worn it flooded into his mind. What a conquest that had been, the poor man hadn’t stood a chance. He slipped out of his dirty clothes and let them drop unceremoniously to the floor – _someone would pick them up later_ – reaching for the toga.

There was a soft creak from behind and a shuffle of footsteps, followed by a very audible gasp. Sirius froze, bumps rising up along his arms. He rotated slowly, distinctly aware of the fact that, aside from the sandals laced up to his calves, he was in a shocking state of undress.

The wolf had turned his back to the shamefully exposed heir, his broad shoulders rigid as a board. Sirius could see the tips of his blushing ears poking out from beneath wet curls. He imagined that the rest of the beast’s face was a similar shade. Sirius almost snorted, but quickly caught himself, throwing the toga over his shoulder and wrapping it snuggly around his offending nakedness.

_Well, the night was going splendidly so far, wasn’t it?_

~*~

Remus had _not_ been expecting that.

He stared at the back of his eyelids, which were screwed so tightly shut that his head was beginning to ache. His mind was a jumbled mess, but one thing stood out clearly – he had just walked in on the heir to the Black Empire… completely starkers.

It wasn’t as though Remus was a stranger to nudity. Clothes had never been much of a necessity back at the den. They got in the way, and dirtied far too quickly. No, what had startled Remus was the fact that Sirius had virtually no scars; not a single blemish on his entire body, at least, from what he had taken in through his fleeting glimpse.

_He’d never seen anyone like that._

The image of the heir’s smooth form was seared into his retinas. Somehow, above his own harsh breathing, Remus could hear the soft brush of silk against skin as Sirius slipped into his toga. A sharp tug in his gut that had nothing to do with the humiliation that was threatening to undo him, caused Remus to shudder. He yanked sharply at the sash around his waist, pulling it tight against the warmth that had risen there. The sensation left him feeling oddly vulnerable and exposed, as if somehow the heir had stripped away Remus’ dignity along with his own clothes.

Caught up in a whirlwind of bemusing thoughts, Remus nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand slipped lightly over his shoulder.

“I hope you enjoyed the show while it lasted. You may face me now.”

Remus felt a slight pang at his words. It wasn’t as though he’d purposefully walked in on the heir in his nothings. He took a deep, apprehensive breath, willing his lungs to expand, then slowly turned to face Sirius Black.

~*~

Sirius felt a thrill of excitement rush through him – the childish anticipation of unwrapping a gift. His prize turned to face him with what felt like agonizing slowness, the dust finally cleared away.

“ _There_ you are,” Sirius grinned unabashedly, drinking in the unobstructed view of the wolf in front of him – everything from his shaggy mop to his bare feet.

Even without a coating of dirt, the wolf’s coloring remained unchanged. His skin was bronzed from a life outdoors, his hair returning to its natural color of dusty brown as the damp locks dried and curled around his ears.

The beast’s features were a visual contradiction, an odd blend of soft and hard edges. His face, at its core, was youthful – void of harsh lines, as though his expressions hadn’t yet had time to leave their mark in the map of his countenance. Yet, the jagged scars that marred his entire person told a very different story. Sirius found the stark contrast of experience stamped on a youthful face strangely jarring.

He moved on to something he was much more comfortable with. The wolf looked as though his inherent form was inclined to be lanky and thin, but years of strenuous activity had managed to fill out the natural hollows of his body – quite nicely in fact.

Sirius couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. The beast wasn’t exactly what he’d expected, but he _certainl_ y wasn’t disappointing.

~*~

Remus felt his hackles rise as Sirius circled him like a bird of prey, his stare almost predatory as it roved over his form. He attempted to quell the urge to squirm under the intensity of the heir’s pale gaze. He wouldn’t let the man intimidate him, he had to hold his ground.

Sirius completed his survey, halting directly in front of Remus. If there was still a question as to the heir’s lack of shame regarding his previous state of indecency, the lewd smirk that spread over his face wiped all doubt from Remus’ mind. He felt the breath rush from his lungs.

_Why the hell did he keep looking at him like that?_

“You clean up nice.”

Remus jumped as Sirius ended the uncomfortably long silence. He cast the heir an incredulous look, but remained mute, waiting for him to continue.

“You must be starving.” Sirius pulled out a long, black stick of wood and pointed it carelessly at Remus. Remus locked his eyes on the seemingly harmless object, confusion giving way to alarm. He’d seen an object like this before, and he remembered the destruction that had followed. Remus nearly leapt out of his skin, instincts taking over as his arms flew up to shield himself.

Nothing happened.

Remus slowly lowered his arms to reveal Sirius’ startled face, his mouth hanging open slightly. Remus felt the ringing in his ears subside as his cheeks began to burn with humiliation. Sirius watched him carefully, his other hand raised in what Remus supposed was a peaceful gesture as he slowly flicked the stick, directing it over the other man’s shoulder.

Remus heard a _whooshing_ sound behind him. Unable to quell his already frayed nerves, Remus threw caution to the wind, turning his back on Sirius as he whirled around to face the new threat.

… _Food._

A whole table of it. Not just food though, the most mouth-watering array he’d ever laid eyes on. Remus gaped, his mouth doing just that. It had been months since he’d had a decent meal. He heard his hollow stomach whine pitifully.

Remus gritted his teeth, the intoxicating onslaught of smells making his head spin. He forced himself back around to face Sirius, hands balling into fists at his sides as he mentally willed his stomach to stop growling at him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, he needed answers.

“Not hungry?” Sirius quirked a brow at him.

“No.” Remus instantly regretted his declaration as his stomach wailed in betrayal. The heir’s eyes flickered down and back up again, crinkling as he chuckled. Remus pressed on, determined. “Why have you–”

“What’s your name?” Sirius’ question hung in the air. He tilted his head slightly, bemused. “You have an odd habit of going suddenly and inexplicably mute, don’t you?”

With some degree of effort, Remus unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, bristling. “I’m not much of a conversationalist.”

“But clearly an expert at dodging questions. Don’t you want to get to know me?”

“I’m not much of a people-person.”

“No, indeed,” Sirius responded casually. “Not much of a ‘person’ either.”

Remus clenched his teeth so quickly that they scraped together, sending a biting chill down his spine.

“Oh come now, I was only teasing. If you keep this up your going to break that striking jaw of yours.” Sirius tapped Remus smartly on the cheek. “It’s only a name.”

 _Only one more thing to take from me._ Remus thought bitterly. He could feel the muscles in his jaw starting to ache, and although Sirius’ tone was still lighthearted, the lines that now creased his brow gave away his waning patience.

“Would you rather I call you Beast?”

Remus hesitated, weighing his options. He didn’t want to share personal information with his enemy – but if he continued to vex the other man, he wouldn’t get any answers of his own. Sirius had been nothing but obliging so far. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give him _something._ With a sigh, Remus released his tongue from its cage. “Set down that stick you’re currently pointing at me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Sirius gazed at him contemplatively as he sized him up, his eyes flitting to the collar around Remus’ neck. “Very well.”

Remus exhaled as Sirius placed the wand back in its sheath. As soon as he was sure it was secure, he looked up to meet Sirius’ steady gaze. “Remus.”

The heir’s face, which had settled into a series of horizontal lines, suddenly arched towards the heavens as his brows shot up excitedly. “Ha! The beast does have a name!” Remus nearly slammed his jaw shut again, but Sirius, sensing his disapproval, quickly amended, “Remus the wolf. I like it. Oddly appropriate.”

“My parents liked to plan for the future,” Remus responded dryly. Sirius stared for a moment, startled by Remus’ quip, his jaw slack. His face slowly split into a wide grin.

“Oh, I know how to pick them, don’t I?” he laughed gleefully, looking utterly pleased.

 _Pick them?_ Remus felt his chest tighten. He could think of only a few things that a member of the Black family would _pick_ someone like him for, and none of those options were incredibly appealing. Seizing the opportunity to address his many questions, Remus interjected, “You’ve failed to mention what exactly you’ve ‘picked’ me for.”

“Have I?” Sirius pondered. “Hm, I thought that would be apparent by now.”

 _Gods,_ the man was insufferable. “I must have missed something.”

Sirius took a step forward, causing Remus to take a hasty step back, then curse himself inwardly for losing ground. He squared his shoulders, forcing his feet to stay still as Sirius closed the distance between them.

The heir reached out, his hand slipping around Remus’ waist. Remus felt the air rush from his lungs, leaving him lightheaded as Sirius drew him uncomfortably close. With his chest pressed up against Remus’ own, and the loose toga slipping down off of his shoulder, he murmured, “What do you think you’re here for?”

For a moment, Remus couldn’t think, his mind shuddering to a halt. Slowly, a flame ignited inside of him, melting away the numbness and building until it was a roaring blaze. He stared down at the man, whose face was now inches from his own, and everything fell into place.

“ _No_.”

Sirius blinked up at him, unmoving, the word appearing to have had little impact. Remus pulled away, putting as much distance between them as possible. “You… you want me to–”

Sirius quirked a brow, looking mildly disconcerted by Remus’ reaction. “… Be my companion.”

Remus felt as though his legs might collapse beneath him. He quickly reached out, grasping the stone basin beside him, trembling.

“Gods, is the thought so unappealing?” Sirius looked genuinely baffled, as if he’d never witnessed such a reaction – and perhaps he hadn’t. The heir certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man that was accustomed to rejection.

“You want me to be your _whore_ ,” Remus spat, revulsion settling in his stomach like lead.

“I wouldn’t say whore. Seems a bit harsh.” Sirius slipped the toga back over his shoulder self-consciously, stung. Clearly this conversation was not going as planned.

Remus barked with laughter, hysteria beginning to take hold. “Ah, right. Forgive me, I’m not your whore. Even _whores_ get paid!”

“Testy, aren’t we?”

“I didn’t realize you expected me to be overjoyed at the news I was to become a sex slave for the man who ripped my life from beneath me!” Remus snarled viciously, nearly spitting with rage.

Sirius’ face froze in a look of utter shock. However, the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the heir carefully piecing himself together as his unnervingly cool exterior fell back into place. “I believe you’re mistaken.”

“Pray, tell me how?” Remus rasped, body humming with the fury he was attempting to keep tethered.

“I _saved_ your life, wolf.”

~*~

Remus snorted derisively, his eyes practically glowing with disdain and poorly contained anger. Sirius’ bristled. He had never been treated with such disrespect in his life. Well… his _beloved_ mother excluded.

“A little _gratitude_ wouldn’t go amiss,” he snapped, face burning with indignation.

Silence fell between them, the tension in the room pressing against Sirius’ ears until he feared he’d gone deaf. Clearly, those had not been the right words to use.

Remus was staring at him, pupils dilating unnervingly, his gaze suddenly far less human. A growl erupted from somewhere deep in his throat as he stalked forward, causing Sirius to take a hurried step back, losing the ground he had gained.

“You want gratitude?” Remus’ voice was hushed, sending a thrill of apprehension coursing through Sirius. The wolf appeared to be living under the delusion that Sirius was to blame for his plight, and he doubted, under the current circumstances, reasoning with him would be very effective.

Remus took another threatening step forward, his back hunched and canines glinting as he snarled.

Between the seemingly harmless appearance and the witty remarks, Sirius had almost forgotten that the man standing, feet away from him, wasn’t actually a man at all.

“Remus, let’s not do anything we might regret,” Sirius croaked, his tongue flicking out to wet dry lips. He cursed inwardly, palms slick with sweat and tingling from the absence of his wand.

“Trust me. I’ll have no regrets.”

Sirius felt a thrill of terror at the realization that Remus meant every word.

Images of the carnage in the ring flashed suddenly through his mind, leaving him frightfully aware that the only thing keeping Remus from potentially ripping his head off was a thin strip of leather around his throat.

 _The collar._ He’d forgotten. The collar Remus was currently wearing had been designed for the ring. Sirius’ stomach gave a sickening lurch as he recalled how ineffective the collar had been when Remus struck the unsuspecting soldier. He was fairly certain that if the wolf decided to attack, neither he nor that measly strip of leather would be fast enough to stop him before damage was done.

His only hope was to reason with madness.

“If you’d just calm down and let me explain–”

“You have nothing to say to me.”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m saying it right now.” Sirius made a valiant effort to keep his tone even and his gaze steady, watching the wolf’s every move, just as the wolf was watching his. “Have I done anything to hurt you? Have I been anything other than hospitable? Don’t you think perhaps I deserve a chance to explain myself before you put me _and yourself,_ at risk?”

Remus halted in his tracks, his harsh yellow eyes glinting. Sirius took a deep breath and continued, “If anything happens to me, you’ll have the wrath of the harpy who birthed me to deal with. She tends to be _inventive_ with her punishments.” _Not that she wouldn’t be overjoyed to see me skewered,_ a voice in the back of Sirius’ mind finished dryly.

“Then I’ll be sure to give her a reason to be.”

~*~

“You won’t get far with that trinket around your neck.” Sirius’ voice came out weak and unconvincing.

Remus could feel the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, the familiar ring in his ears returning. “Brave words hold little weight coming from a mouth twisted in fear,” he murmured.

Sirius, who had been steadily retreating, went rigid. The heir’s expression shifted, his eyes flashing with defiance and something else Remus couldn’t quite place.

“Idle threats,” the heir whispered. His tone filled Remus with unease and he shuddered, recalling a similar voice that had invaded his mind in the ring. The heir’s figure suddenly looked much more imposing than it had moments before. “If you’re willing to gamble your life on a slim hope of misplaced vengeance, be my guest. However, I hold you no ill-will, and you’ve seen what the emperor is capable of. I assure you, like it or not, I’m a much more agreeable alternative.”

Remus stood, rooted to the spot, body twitching with barely suppressed aggression as he weighed his options.

_Coward._

Remus flinched. He was a coward. He feared death and the thought of facing everyone he’d failed – or perhaps it was the fear of never seeing them again.

No matter what he told himself, he wasn’t ready to die.

After what felt like an eternity, his burning gaze shifted back to dark amber, his shoulders sagged and the ringing in his ears settled to a dull thrum.

The tension that had been building in the heir visibly lifted, his face settling back into a comfortable smile as he stepped back, out of range, and drew the wand from his side, aiming it straight at Remus.

_Remus saw red._

~*~

 _Well…_ that _was a mistake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the continued support and wonderful comments! I know it's always a long wait between chapters, you guys are troopers. :P


	11. A Noble Compromise

Remus felt his knees crack and his ankle snap as he launched at Sirius with such force the room blurred around him. The heir’s face went white as a sheet, his grey eyes flying wide with fear. Remus was overcome with an animalistic urge to close those eyes forever and threw out a clawed hand. The collar around his neck tightened, but it was far too slow, far too weak to keep Remus at bay. Heat radiated from Sirius’ feverish skin as Remus’ fingers brushed against the other man’s cheek – then there was a loud bang, a blinding burst of light… and Sirius was gone.

Remus stumbled to a halt, every instinct on alert. He frantically scanned the room, struggling to breathe as the collar constricted around his throat and his ankle burned.

Sirius stood across from him, well out of harm’s way, leaning against the door as both he and Remus struggled to regain their breath. “Gods! That’s the thanks I get for trying to heal you!?”

Remus stiffened, panting as blackness seeped into the corners of his vision.

“Well, this has been an utter disaster.” Sirius brushed off his robes, glaring accusingly at Remus as if he were the only one at fault.

Remus wheezed, panic gripping him as the collar tightened again, squeezing his airway closed. His mouth dropped open, gulping for air that wouldn’t come like a fish pulled from a stream. His knees trembled and vision blurred as the cursed object around his neck slowly began to squeeze the life from him.

Sirius froze, his cool eyes narrowed. There was a brief moment of hesitation before, with a sharp flick of his wooden stick, the collar loosened.

Remus instantly dropped to his hands and knees. His eyes began to sting with pain as he dragged cold, clean air through his bruised throat. He let out a sob of relief that was quickly stifled when the humiliation of his frailty kicked in.

Silence pressed in around him, the only sound his uneven, ragged breathing.

A door opened, but Remus couldn’t bring himself to look up. Sirius spoke, the unease in his voice poorly masked as he took on a tone akin to scolding a pet hound. “I think it best I leave you for now. Perhaps a bit of solitude will help you come round.”

Remus jumped as the door slammed shut. Sirius was gone.

Remus rose unsteadily to his feet and crossed the room to the door, gripping the handle with enough force to rip the entire door right off its hinges – but it didn’t budge. Cursing, he limped across the room, searching for another escape route.

Every door was locked, every window seemingly indestructible. Remus reacquainted himself with the floor as he sank, dropping his head into his hands defeatedly.

Gradually, his breathing regulated, joints clicking back into place as the adrenaline seeped from his body, leaving him exhausted. He stared blankly through his fingers at the cold-tiled floor, the pattern of waves moving gently beneath him as small, jeweled fish swam around his feet.

It was mesmerizing, and strangely soothing…

~*~

Remus didn’t remember falling asleep. He grimaced as he peeled his face off of the floor, the awkward angle he’d managed to fall into causing a dull ache in his neck and lower back. He felt the pattern of the tiles imprinted on his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Comfortable?”

The now-familiar voice grated on Remus’ ears. He tried to summon some of the anger that he'd felt before, but it eluded him. He was too tired. “Not in the slightest.”

Sirius stood a good distance away, watching him with an infuriatingly amused expression. “You know, for someone who tried to physically separate my head from my body, you look surprisingly harmless when you sleep – I might go as far as to say charming, if your snoring didn’t sound like a bitch’s whine.”

Remus attempted to throw a threatening glare in Sirius’ direction, but simply couldn’t muster up the energy. His mind was still groggy with sleep, and his body was apparently unwilling to support that much facial exertion. “What happened to the ‘solitude’ you promised me?”

“I’m dreadfully impatient.”

“You’re a glutton for punishment is what you are,” Remus growled. “Back for another round of wolf and prey already?”

“I think this round may go a little differently,” Sirius smiled pleasantly, all of his unease seeming to have vanished. Remus became instantly wary. What had changed while he’d slept?

As if in answer to Remus’ unspoken question, Sirius raised his hand, something dangling from his slender fingers.

_… The collar._

There was no way. Sirius wouldn’t have removed it, no one was _that_ great a fool. Remus reached up to his throat, his fingers brushing against something cool and smooth. His shoulders slumped.

_Another cruel joke._

Sirius chuckled and Remus cast him a scornful look, gesturing to the collar in his hand. “Fancied a matching one did you?”

“Not at all, though I’ve dabbled a bit before… for aesthetic purposes.” Sirius smirked suggestively, spinning the collar around his finger. “No, I removed your old collar and replaced it with a more sensible version while you slept. You’re quite the heavy sleeper.”

Remus stiffened at the thought of Sirius having been so close without his knowing.

“It’s time for a fresh start, I think.” Sirius tossed the old collar into the air and it disappeared with a crack. “I’m afraid your irrationally violent ways must come to an end. With that pretty new trinket around your throat, I assure you, you won’t have time to carry out any more _unsavory_ deeds.”

Remus felt his blood run cold as, in response, the leather circling his throat constricted with frightening speed, the sharp edges biting into his flesh just enough to cause his heart to race… a warning gesture.

“I’d tell you what the parameters are, but”–Sirius shrugged, an impish grin on his face–“that would take away the enjoyment of discovery, wouldn’t it?”

Sirius’ threat struck home. Remus felt sweat beading on his brow.

Sirius studied Remus’ face for a moment more, and then, satisfied that his point had been made, dropped the act. “I’m starving.”

~*~

Sirius could feel the wolf’s eyes boring into him as he crossed the room and sat beside the low table, lounging back against the cushions.

The food had remained untouched in his absence. He couldn’t help but feel a little surprised. Remus had been close to starving during his stay in the arena – the wolf clearly had more self control than Sirius could ever dream of attaining.

Sirius glanced over at Remus, who remained rooted to the spot, amber gaze flashing as Sirius picked up a piece of flatbread and tore it in two, holding one half out and waving it temptingly. “You do know that eating is vital if you plan on staying alive, right?” Remus glared defiantly back at him, but his silence was broken by the whine of his hollow stomach. Sirius shook his head, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. “Fresh start, remember? Come sit and eat with me Remus, unless you suddenly have another pressing engagement?”

Remus hesitated, a furious battle playing across his features as he struggled to come to terms with his predicament. Forgo his pride and feed his screeching stomach, or die with dignity.

Apparently, his stomach was louder.

Remus dragged himself to his feet, wincing with the effort, and made his way to the table, sitting opposite of Sirius. Sirius held out the piece of bread, waiting patiently.

“You eat first.”

“Really?” Sirius groaned. “After all of this you _still_ think I’m out to kill you?” Remus just glared stonily back, his jaw set in a stubborn line. Sirius sighed irritably, taking a quick bite from the bread then holding it back out, mumbling through the mouthful. “Satisfied?”

Remus snatched the bread, the entire piece disappearing in an instant. Sirius gaped, his empty hand still outstretched. He hadn’t even seen the wolf chew. He grinned as Remus gazed longingly at the rest of the food, the wolf’s resolve quickly dissolving.

“What else would you like me to taste-test for you, oh doubting one?”

Remus hesitated, his eyes widening at the selection before him. Perhaps he’d never been presented with so many options before. Sirius felt a little tug of pity in his chest. He reached for a bowl of olives, freshly picked and pitted, and popped one in his mouth, holding the rest out for Remus.

Remus snatched the bowl away, shoveling the contents into his mouth without so much as a breath between bites. Sirius couldn’t help but stare, fascinated, as a euphoric expression spread across his scarred features. It was the closest thing to genuine joy that he’d seen from the wolf yet.

Sirius smothered the giggle rising in his throat with a cough, not wanting to break the pleasant trance the food had placed over Remus, and grabbed a nearby silver chalice, pouring some wine for them both.

The meal progressed without any further incident, Remus waiting, somewhat impatiently, for Sirius to choose the next course and Sirius delighting in the little sounds of pleasure he made after each bite. He’d never witnessed such enjoyment for food before. Remus savored every bite, progressing through each dish almost reverently, as though it might be his last.

It was both endearing and strangely humbling.

By the time the meal was finished, the atmosphere had shifted into something akin to relaxation.

_Well, not quite, but close enough._

Sirius watched Remus from over the rim of his chalice, his face pleasantly warm from the wine as he took in the startling effect a full belly had on the other man. Years seemed to have been stripped from the wolf, the harsh lines of his face vanishing as his eyes drooped sleepily. The dim, flickering light danced playfully across his softened features, taming the amber in his eyes and drawing the golden hues from his hair.

It was strange. The boy wasn’t what Sirius would call conventionally attractive, but there was something about him that was, simply put – bewitching. Sirius felt something twist in his chest.

Remus let out a little hum of satisfaction, pleasantly full, and the sound reverberated through Sirius, causing heat to pool in his stomach. He quickly downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, silently scolding himself for being so deplorably easy. For god’s sake, the man had _literally_ tried to murder him hours before.

_Get a fucking grip._

_On him?_

_Stop that._

Sirius groaned, drawing Remus’ attention. The spell that had fallen broke, a weight settling once again over the pair as Remus’ gaze became steely once more.

_Well, it was nice while it lasted._

“… What now?”

Sirius jumped, startled. Remus’ gaze was steady, the question hanging in the air between them.

“What do you mean?”

“What am I meant to do,” Remus asked quietly, his tone resolved, “now that I’m your slave?”

“Companion.”

“Slave,” Remus finished firmly.

Sirius stared into his empty cup, willing it to fill itself as he avoided the question. “It’s late, we’ll talk more once you’re rested.”

“Do you expect me to sleep with you?”

Sirius heard the underlying disgust lacing Remus’ words and felt a painful twinge replace the heat in his stomach. It was the same tone, the same _look_ he’d received from his parents as a child when he’d first expressed interest in the servant boy who dressed him. The next day the boy was gone, and he never saw or heard from him again. “… If you’re willing.”

Remus’ response came swiftly, swinging down on him like a hammer. “I’m not.”

Sirius took a deep breath. “Then I won’t force you.”

Remus’ expression shifted from startled to incredulous. The next words from his mouth were calculated, as if testing Sirius’ sincerity. “Where am I to sleep, then?”

Sirius pulled his wand from its holster, causing Remus to jerk, but he held his hand up calmly and pointed the wand across the room, flicking his wrist. The chair in the corner morphed, elongating into a makeshift bed, a mattress filled with wiry straw splayed across the top.

It didn’t look remotely comfortable – but that _may_ have been intentional.

Remus opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Sirius wondered if he had been about to complain, or perhaps even thank him, before thinking twice.

Remus nodded once, then rose to his feet.

~*~

Sirius made no move to stop him, but something caused Remus to pause, turning back to face the heir. “Why did you choose me?”

The flickering light from the candle rested behind Sirius, his features shrouded in darkness. Remus felt unnerved staring at nothing but a silhouette, unable to read the other man.

“You didn’t play by their game.” Sirius’ response was quiet, contemplative.

Remus fell silent, wanting to ask more but unsure if the answer would be something he wanted to hear. Finally, he settled with, “Why did you think, when you chose me, that I would be interested in sharing my bed with another man?”

The silence that followed stretched on and on, the candle crackling as it reached the end of its life, and sputtered out.

“I’ve rarely taken into consideration the desires of others. I’m nobility – nobles do as they please.”

Remus felt his heart pounding in his ears. Sirius’ blunt statement would have filled him with renewed rage if it weren’t for the way it was delivered. The jarring contrast between his words and the voice that expressed them left Remus’ mind reeling.

He couldn’t see Sirius’ face, but he could hear uncertainty in his tone… self-reflection… _disgust._

Remus didn’t know how to react.

Instead he turned away, shutting everything out as he slipped beneath the thin blanket Sirius had provided, settled down against the first mattress he’d ever slept on, and closed his eyes.


End file.
